Alaryan's Keep
by Lady PhoenixDagger
Summary: Sorry for the wait. Exams and all. In this installment, the Gundam boys and Misty are finally returned home; but will they ever recover? Welcome to Alaryan's Keep, a place where worlds collide and the realm of the dragon combats the wiles of technology
1. Taken

ALARYAN'S KEEP ****

ALARYAN'S KEEP

PART I

"FREAKS"

Chapter I

Between worlds there is a Bond, thread thin and yet infinitely thick, nothing and yet everything at once. It stretches and holds worlds together, an intangible lifeline set out before time began, before man walked, before his earth existed, before life itself was. It is this Bond which holds ever-precious life together, pulling man ever towards his Destiny. 

There is also a Keeper of the Bond. A babe who has seen too much of the hatred man can create, a child who has felt more than his share of pain, a man who secretly fears yet can do nothing as he watches his world spin out of his control to shatter around him. Some call him the Dragon for his outward appearance. Others call him the Mountain or the Lion for his stubbornness and courage. Still others call him the Angel for his boundless love. He holds the Bond and all it touches in his hands; wears it as a gilded collar, so exquisitely beautiful yet so infinitely cruel. 

Through this Bond's chaotic mixture of tangible nothingness and biased neutrality, one thing is for certain:

The Keeper of the Bond must not die, for with his death comes the end of the species of man and all it has come to know.

-excerpt from Atuvan the Red's

"The Dragon Man"

_How long it has been…_

Trowa Barton shut his emerald eyes and leaned his back against the rough bark of the maple tree, sensing keenly the warm sunlight on his face. He felt Quatre's prone body move against his foot in quiet slumber on the soft grass by Delaney Park's duck pond. It was a year to the day the Gundams were destroyed and the now ex-pilots were having a sort of reunion care of Quatre's constant insistence, cajoling and finally some of his not very convincing threats. Relena was there, of course, tossing around a Frisbee and laughing with Duo some twenty feet away. She wasn't horribly good, but Trowa endured good naturedly the plastic disc being flung into his lap with what sense of humour he had and let it go at that. Heero was parked on a picnic table in front of a chessboard opposite Wufei, who was still trying to figure out how the Perfect Soldier had managed to box his king in so neatly without him noticing. Quatre was curled up by Trowa's feet, sleeping off his portion of the enormous picnic lunch Catherine had packed while Catherine herself was kneeling nearby, tossing the leftover crusts to a fleet of loudly quacking ducks. The day was perfect, the meal had been perfect and it looked like the rest of the afternoon was getting ready to follow suit. 

_How long it has been…_ Trowa mused again, listening to the girl he thought of as his older sister croon to her new feathered friends. _How long has it been since we have gathered without sadness?_ He opened his eyes, watching Duo and Relena laughing hysterically on the grass and smiled. _This is what our pain was for._ Catherine giggled girlishly as an over-eager duck tried to wrench a piece of bread from her fingers. Silently, Trowa chuckled along. _Let others say what they want. The pain was worth this new joy. This peace I never knew. _

"Hey, Trowa!" Duo was waving to him, Frisbee in hand. 

"Yeah?"

"We're playing ultimate Frisbee and we need a doubles team! You and Catherine wanna join up?" The braided boy grinned devilishly. "Of course, I can't really promise that we won't totally whomp you guys."

Catherine shook her head. She found Frisbee dull –not enough pointy objects involved. Quatre, who had just woken, sat up and stretched languorously. 

"I'll play in Catherine's place, if you'd like," he called.

Duo waved him over, " 'Course! The more there are the more satisfying the win!"

Quatre got up and loped over. Trowa followed, pausing to prod his surrogate sister with his foot. "You're boring, Cathy," he teased. Ducking a flying crust with a laugh, he joined the others. 

*****

"Aaargh! You did it _again_!" Wufei shouted in disbelief. He glared at the chessboard, as if demanding Heero's pieces to pull themselves out of check. "Best five of seven!" he demanded, setting the black pieces back up.

"Sure," agreed Heero, lazily turning Wufei's lost king over in his hands. "Loser owes me lunch."

Wufei snarled and began to set the white pieces up, thumping them down more forcefully than necessary. Heero's mouth quirked in an almost imperceptible smile. For the last year, all his battles had been fought and won upon this battered, second hand wooden board. The need for violence to bring peace was over. The need for the Gundams was over. 

Heero still wasn't sure whether he was entirely pleased or not with the loss of his gundam. Wing Zero had been a curse to him, warping his mind, causing him all sorts of hell. Even the thought of it made Heero's nostrils fill with the scent of blood and fire and fear. But without it, the Perfect Soldier was nothing, a lost soul drifting through life with nothing to hold on to. A soldier without a mission.

_What am I now…? A dead man in a live body? A wandering spirit?_ Images of the smoking ruins of mobile dolls, their pilots draped limply over them came unbidden to his mind. _Where do I go from here? _

"Yuy! Quit daydreaming and make your move!"

Heero blinked and -without seeming to think about it- captured Wufei's rook. The Chinese ex-pilot's eyes widened in shock.

"_Dammit!_"

*****

Catherine grinned and sat back in the very spot her brother had just been in a moment ago, watching him, Quatre, Relena, and Duo chase each other around on the grass like wildly laughing puppies. They were so cute! 

Not that she would ever tell them that, of course.

So much had changed in Trowa since the end of the gundams. He smiled more, though admittedly only at Catherine. He also spoke more, though again he was only that open with her, telling her about his life as a mercenary, and later on as a gundam pilot before he joined the circus. The changes were subtle but they were still there and his ongoing friendship with the other pilots seemed to help him cope with the memories of the past.

Still, there were bad days. Days when Trowa's mental state simply collapsed and the show went on without him. Days when he would sit on the floor of his tent and stare at his reflection in the little mirror Catherine sometimes used to put on her makeup, sitting there for hours on end, whispering half-heartedly to himself. It still scared Catherine when she woke to hear him crying out in his sleep nearby and her heart almost broke when she caught him standing over the sink watching the blood fall from the cracked skin of his hands as he tried to scrub away the taint of war. 

Catherine's mind pulled back to the present as a sudden realisation gripped her. The ducks she had been feeding had gone eerily silent. They all stood in front of her now, all in a perfect line staring stiffly at the pond before them like tiny soldiers standing at attention. The amazed young woman inched towards them on her hands and knees, a sick feeling growing inside her, her eyes fixed to the pond. Tiny ripples rolled from the centre. Catherine watched the smooth, perfect rings moving to a slow, easy rhythm. Cocking her head, she could almost hear it.

__

Whummmm…whummmm…whummmm…whummmm

Fascinated, Catherine stared as her stomach knotted in fear. Her hand brushed against a stone-still duck. It fell stiffly over, unmoving even as it landed. The rhythm in the centre of the pond sped up.

__

Whumm.Whumm.Whumm.Whumm…

"Guys?" Catherine's voice was high, unnatural. "Guys?"

The urgent, almost hysterical note in her voice was enough to send the others running to her, Trowa far in the lead. 

"What is it, sis?" His arms snaked their way around her. She pointed fearfully to the pond.

The sound was louder now, more forceful. They could hear it as well as feel its bass vibrations.

__

Whumwhumwhumwhumwhum…

"Oh, lord. Get away from there." The quaver in Quatre's voice betrayed his calm tone. "Get back. _Now_."

The water in the centre of the pond had graduated to bubbling. The vibrations were causing more ducks to fall over.

"_Get back!!_"

The pond exploded in a scalding geyser of water. The line of ducks was destroyed as the water ripped through them backed by thousands of tonnes of pressure. The sound was enormous. Chunks of earth thudded soundlessly to the ground as the geyser expanded, flash-boiling everything in its path.

"Ruuuuunnnn!!!!" Duo screamed, his voice a child's whisper above the din. 

The others did not have to hear him twice. They sprinted in blind terror as the spray of death closed in, splintering trees, shattering statues. Onlookers who stopped or looked back were instantly destroyed by the immense pressure and heat of the liquid inferno.

A scream from behind rang out shrilly to be swallowed by the thundering rumble of the column of water. 

"Relena!" Quatre shouted. 

"She's gone! Move faster! Don't look back!" Wufei urged to the boy behind him.

The hideous slam of thousands of tonnes of pressure was his only answer as Trowa and Quatre were devoured by the ever-hungry water. Catherine screamed as Quatre's hand made a clumsy grab at her ankle and she too was sucked into the wet inferno, leaving Duo, Heero and Wufei to outrun the thundering wave. 

The settings darkened as the wave grew and blotted out the sun. Suddenly, it split and poured around the three young men, pulling them to a halt and boxing them in. The steam scalded their skin red immediately as the raging barrier closed slowly in. 

Wufei lifted his chin in defiance. "So be it," he murmured, his voice hopelessly lost in the fury. "I will die with honour." 

Duo and Heero lunged at him and almost managed to grasp at his sodden clothes as he threw himself into the scalding water. Neither of them heard the slight sizzling sound as all the fat was flash-boiled off his body. 

"So I guess it's just you and me, buddy!!!!" Duo's voice was hoarse as he screamed these words. The walls were closing in. The heat was truly unbearable.

"Yeah!!" Heero could feel his skin burning as the steam found it. His eyes were bleeding. "Funny thing we get to die now!!"

Duo dropped bonelessly to his knees, slumping over like a rag doll. The crushing water was barely a foot away. "Yeah!!" he gasped, the steam filling his lungs. He heard nothing but the crashing of the water as it began to touch his face. "See you on the other side, buddy…"

And then blackness took them…

*****

Footsteps echoed off the stone walls as Riana Broman made her way to the Dying Room. There was probably a better name for it somewhere in the records, but everyone -even those who had stayed there- called it that. It was a place for the terminally ill to lie, to gain respite from the rest of the world and, overall, to die. Walker had taken over this room with his constant attacks and since there hadn't been any terminally ill in what seemed to be years, the room had been given over to him. But much to his chagrin, the name had stuck. 

The halls were barren today, almost dead to the touch. The complete antithesis of the hustle and bustle of everyday life in Alaryan's Keep. But today was not a regular day. Walker was in the throes of yet another attack and to walk the halls with him letting out so much magical discharge could prove to be fatal. 

Riana –known to all as Ria- paused a few feet from the Dying Room's wooden door to compose herself before going in. Seeing her brother like this was never easy. Once inside the scene was all too familiar to her. Her younger sisters Misty and Tama were crowded next to a simple bed with her older brother Darien -Walker's twin- on the other side, wringing his hands. Misty's harp was in her lap, her thin arms around it like a child with a treasured security blanket. Poor thing. She was only seventeen and every time Walker had an attack it was like she was being asked to watch him die just a little bit more…

Nineteen-year-old Tama sat with her hands on her knees, her normally hard expression softened by sadness as she watched Walker's torment. Even she, with her strength and cool head could not****sit by and watch Walker fade away; yet she could not bear the thought of him dying at a time when she wasn't with him. 

Walker himself was in the bed, lying on his side, his scarred face contorted in agony. He was bare to the waist, the sheets pulled down to the middles of his muscular thighs. His hard, well-muscled back was criss-crossed with a complex network of scars and a thin sheen of sweat played over it, emphasising his muscle tone further. Long black streaks like pennons of pure evil radiated from these scars like morbid sunbeams, moving sinuously as the plague got yet another foothold on Walker's already weary immune system. Ria blew out a small sigh and ran her fingers along the scars on her beloved brother's hot, sweaty face, tracing his features. These ones were still clean of the disease, but for how long, Ria didn't know.

"He wants you to stop that Ria. Your hands are too hot." 

Ria pulled her hand back as though it had been burned. Darien's voice was thin, and wearily so. His thick, shaggy black hair was unbrushed and had probably not been washed in days. His green eyes were clouded as he felt keenly his twin's pain. The young men held a psychic link between each other. It allowed for transfer of thought, but it also allowed for some physical pain to filter through.

"Sorry." Ria ran her fingers through her auburn hair. "How is he doing?"

There came a sudden wet snap as another black streamer scythed across Walker's shoulders. With a moan, his body jerked in agony, his face contorted into a rictus of pain.

"You tell me."

Tama cracked her knuckles against her thigh. " 'S getting worse," she sighed in her full, throaty voice. "It's getting harder to control the spurts by the hour."

A small sound that could only be described as _croik_ caught the group's attention as a candle on the bedside table suddenly melted into a dove and flitted to perch on the bedpost. 

"Ah." Ria watched the newly-formed dove bob its head. "I see."

Almost absent-mindedly Misty hummed a little tune to herself. The bird immediately darted off the post to land on her shoulder, cooing along. Misty fingered its breast distractedly. "Something's wrong." Her soft, musical voice was worried. "Walker's never been at it this long before. The Bond could suffer for it."

"As he suffers now?!" Darien snapped, his nerves stretched to their tearing point. "Keep your thoughts on what lies before you!" 

Walker cried out as another thread of plague whipped across the small of his back.

Darien's hands knotted again. "Why him? We're only twenty-three!" The girls looked at the floor. How many times had this question been asked? How many times had the answer managed to elude them? Darien dolefully stroked Walker's fiery hair. "He looks so old," he murmured.

The others nodded sadly. Almost all the magic in the world was here in this Keep and yet no one could ease the pain of a dying man. Ria crossed her legs and watched her brother's shallow breathing, helplessly as usual. They came so suddenly. One moment Walker would be up and laughing, and the next, he would be lying in the Dying Room, eyes sealed shut, lungs struggling for his next breath. Darien sighed and wiped his eyes as the plague danced gruesomely along Walker's body like a host of demons at play. How long did he have? How long would it be until the Keeper of the Bond died and the world would be plunged into eternal darkness? How long would it be until Earth was lost?

The siblings watched their brother lie, watching and waiting for the answer that would no doubt wait until it was too late to come. 

Wantonly, the wax dove cooed and took flight out an open window, taking with it the siblings' hopes for their brother's life. 

_Well, that's all I have for now, please R&R. If I know that people want to read more, i'll put more up! Until we meet again! --Lady PhoenixDagger_


	2. Flee...

Hi __

Hi! Me again. Even though I didn't get more than 2 reviews for my first chapter, I'm still writing! Please_ R&R!!! –Lady PhoenixDagger _

Rated PG-13 for gore and swearing…

****

ALARYAN'S KEEP

PART I

"FREAKS"

Chapter II

Heero was the first to wake, though anyone watching would never have known. Carefully, he pretended to be unconscious and accepted the opportunity to take stock of his situation. One side of his body was resting on something cold. Further thought on the matter gave Heero the idea that he was lying on a stone floor and judging by the soreness of his cramped muscles and the relative dryness of his clothes, he had been there for a long time. There was no obvious noise, but the slow, deliberate sounds of breathing around him told him he hadn't been the only one taken to this strange new place.

"Yuy." A smooth, controlled tone to the right. Ah, Wufei's.

"Hn." Heero's lips didn't move. "The others?" he asked.

"Here an' there, old buddy." A rich, tawny voice to the far left. Duo's.

"Quietly. Trowa and Quatre?"

"Mmm." A silky murmur filled with quiet sharpness. Trowa's, of course.

"Here." A gentle sigh almost boyishly eager in timbre. Quatre was next to Wufei. "The girls are here, too."

"Good." Heero shifted slightly, giving the impression of one in enveloped in an uneasy sleep. "We may be being watched, so do only as I say…" 

*****

"Hold him!" 

Another glass on the nightstand exploded into millions of shards, unable to handle the immense measure of magic whipping around the room.

Walker's thrashing grew more frantic, desperately he tried to lift himself from the bed, but he was too weak to rise. To Darien's horror, the scars on his face began to split open from the stress. He shifted more of his weight onto Walker's arms, praying that this nightmare would end, that the scars would close, that this would not be Walker's last day on Earth. 

"He's trying to speak!" Tama shouted from her perch at the end of the bed on top of Walker's recklessly contorting legs. 

"Br…….…br……_br_…" Walker croaked, his throat thick with the excruciating pain. 

"What!? WHAT!?" Ria's cry was bitten off by a shrill scream as she tried to shield Misty from a table that had exploded into dagger-like slivers.

"Tell us!!!" Darien roared, now sitting on Walker's chest, feeling below him the sick writhing as the plague tried to pull itself out of its host's dying body. Darien's arms had long ago turned red and lost feeling from the effort of restraining his brother, but still he held on. 

A skin rug on the floor nearby burst into flame. Walker sat up, throwing Darien to the floor.

"BREEEEEAAAAACCCHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

"_Shit!_"

*****

It was the footsteps ringing on stone that jerked Heero into alertness. He listened. There were four people. One with a long stride, two mediums and one significantly shorter, somewhat like his own, but lighter. 

Interesting.

A man with three women.

Something on them was jingling. Metal. It was probably safe to presume that they were all armed. Perhaps they even wore protective armour. This could make things difficult. 

Or fun, depending. 

They walked briskly, but took a while to get to where Heero and his companions lay.

_Ah…we're in a wide room._

"Huh. Kids." A female voice. Deep. Husky. Rich. Heero tried to get a picture of her in his mind and filed it away for later use.

"Yeah." Another female. Older, perhaps. Next to him, Heero felt Wufei's body go rigid. "Skinny things, aren't they?"

"Mmmm." Male voice. Seemed preoccupied with something. Heero wondered if he could use this little tidbit to his advantage. "Four boys and three girls."

The shortest footsteps wound their way towards Duo. "Uh, uh." A final female voice, very clear. Endearing, almost, in its melodious sound. There came a _shfft_ of cloth on metal. Heero smiled inwardly. He was right. They wore metal armour. He pictured her leaning over Duo's still form. "This one's a boy, too."

"Yeah?" The oldest female sauntered over. Heero suddenly tensed imperceptibly, feeling the familiar wave of adrenaline wash over him. These people were endangering his mission! They were getting too close! 

The oldest female leaned over as well. "Huh. Whaddaya know? It _is_ a boy." There was a hint of a smile concealed in her voice. "Pretty hair."

"Thanks, babe. I try to wash it every night!" Duo leapt to his feet, firing a quick shot into the air. Even in peace, a real gundam pilot was never truly unarmed. "Go!!!"

Heero's coiled muscles darted him to his feet and out the wide doorway of the room. The footfalls of the others followed him, minus one.

"Split up!" he heard Wufei yell. There came another shot and a woman's scream echoed through the hallway. 

"Tama!!" the oldest girl shouted. 

" 'S alright! It's just a flesh wound!"

*****

__

Just a flesh wound!? Wufei's mind raced almost as fast as his furiously pumping legs. The girl they called Tama had grabbed him in a crushing hug that belied her slender build. His air quickly running out, Wufei had had no choice but to shoot to kill. He'd even seen the bullet bite into her chest! And it was _just a flesh wound!?!?!?!_

__

Dammit. Run faster!! he urged himself on.

Fine scenery flashed in a confused blur as Wufei streaked by. The young woman was ever close behind. Tightly, he took a corner. The woman followed suit. He hazarded a quick look behind. The woman sprinted after him with the speed of a demon, one hand clamped over the spurting wound in her chest, covered in blood. Her face was streaked with it where she had brushed back her auburn hair, which whipped loosely about her shoulders. Something metal glinted in her free hand.

"Damn!" Wufei turned and yanked his sword from Hammer Space. If he died at the hands of this demon woman it would be with honour. He took a defensive stance. "Come on and fight me, woman! Come on and fight!" 

The woman drew back her free hand and fired. Wufei cursed in Mandarin as he felt something sting his upper thigh.

"Shit," he murmured again as darkness took him. He was dimly aware, however, of strong, sticky hands catching him as he fell.

*****

"Run faster, Quatre!" urged Trowa, his own legs all but an unintelligible blur.

"I'm trying!" 

The oldest woman was close behind, shouting to them. "Just stop and give yourselves up! I swear on my honour that I won't harm you!"

"Looks like you'll have to catch up to us first, lady!" Duo yelled, catching up to Trowa and passing him. "Lucky you," he quipped. "I got the little one!"

The youngest girl suddenly appeared and she and Duo raced down an adjoining hall, Duo shouting taunts all the way.

Trowa risked a glance behind. Quatre was flagging and the woman was catching up to him. _Good luck, my friend_, Trowa thought sadly and leapt for a gothic grotesque halfway up the fifteen-foot wall. He looked back to see the girl stop and make a lazy gesture at him. 

__

What the he-

Trowa had barely gotten off the ground when a sticky substance slammed into him and hurled him into the stone above. The boy's head struck the stone and suddenly he was still.

Quatre skidded to a stop and looked in horror at Trowa, limp and unconscious, encased in a translucent green blob stuck firmly to the wall. Only his head and shoulders escaped being submerged. Catching his breath, Quatre slowly turned to face the woman, who stood in an easy fighting stance, a dagger in one hand and a small ring, which glowed slightly in the other. 

"I repeat," she said, turning the dagger over in her hand. "Give up and no harm will come to you."

Quatre sighed and put up his hands.

"Good boy," the woman purred.

*****

"Run all you want, darlin' I can keep this up for _days_!" Duo laughed over his shoulder, a small explosive in either hand. Peace was peace, but it didn't mean stuff didn't need to be blown up now and then. Besides, he needed to keep in practice, just in case a situation such as the one he was in happened to come up. "Heads up!" He pitched a flashbang over his shoulder.

Needless to say, he was quite surprised when it came sailing back at him. Cursing, he covered his eyes and braced himself for the bang.

The hallway lit up with the huge thunderclap of an explosion.

"Just give up!" the girl shouted when the sound dissipated. "This is stupid!" 

A sarcastic laugh was her only answer.

"Bastard!"

"Why, thank you!" Duo called back. "Nice place, you have here!"

"Thanks!" A small dagger zipped past his ear, drawing a drop of blood and clanging to the stone.

"Nice going, babe! Way to subdue the wall!"

"Aaargh!!!"

"Face it, babe! You can't catch me!" Duo called over his shoulder, enjoying her enraged look more and more with every passing second. "Know why? 'Cuz I'm Duo-"

POW!!!

"-wall," garbled the braided ex-pilot as he slid down the unyielding stone before him.

The girl skidded to a halt in front of him and bent to take a better look at her downed opponent. With exaggerated formality, she reached down and shook the limp hand.

"Lovely to meet you, Duo Wall."

*****

"Left!" Relena cried, pointing down yet another corridor.

Catherine banked and turned as the Vice-Foreign Minister instructed. Meanwhile, the man behind them closed in, his face contorted as though in great pain. Of course, there was also the matter of the very large sword in his hand, which the girls paid significantly more attention to. 

"Hah! Eat this, dirt bag!" Catherine –who had obviously watched far too many bad action movies in her time- shot her hand up her sleeve and frantically flung a knife over her shoulder. There came a metallic _tang_, causing her to look back.

The man now had her knife between his teeth and was grinning maniacally at her. 

"Shit!" hissed Catherine. That had been her only spare knife. "Run faster!"

"Just give it up!" The man spoke rather well for one running at a dead sprint with a knife clamped between his teeth. "I mean you peace!"

"Riiiight! This coming from a sword-wielding maniac!"

"And you throwing that knife would then make you what, then?" To Catherine and Relena's horror, the man was laughing, the knife clattering between his teeth. "Stop and surrender!" he called again, his speech clearer, for he had spat out the knife. "Might as well!"

"Why?" Relena huffed, her speed flagging. "I bet we could keep this up all day," she called, praying he wouldn't call her bluff.

The man's laughter echoed over the stone walls. "Not unless you can run through solid stone. You've come upon a dead end, my dears."

A colourfully tapestried wall loomed up ahead. 

"Aaaargh!" Catherine screamed and slapped her hands against the wall, stopping herself. "Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! DAMMIT!!!"

Relena's method had a bit more style. She sighed and regally drew herself up, the intangible mantle of a princess wrapped firmly around her shoulders. "Just put up your hands, Cathy." Her own slender palms were already in the air. "Nothing good ever came from running away."

*****

Silence. Heero said nothing, letting his feet slap rhythmically against the unrelenting stone. He needed his breath for running. 

The middle girl, with Wufei's limp form on her back, was gaining on him, blood still spurting less freely from the wound her chest. She didn't seem to care. 

In fact, she was grinning. 

Heero's eyes narrowed as he ran through what seemed like miles and miles of endless stone corridor.

"We have your friends, kid!" the girl shouted, he voice seeming to bounce as Wufei jiggled up and down on her back. "You can run all you want, it's only a matter of time before you join them! 

Heero's lips quirked in an ironic smile. _Is it now_? His mind skipped over to hundreds of battles in which he fought against odds of more than a hundred to one, if he was lucky. And this girl said it was only a matter of time before she caught him. _Hn._ _Not bloody likely_.

He had been taken in the past. But those had been mere flukes, twists of fate. He wasn't going to allow it to happen again.

Rhythmically, sneakers slapped on stone.

Prussian blue eyes scanned the halls. There was only one thing he needed…

"You have no idea of my talents, boy! I can run forever! You'll stop eventually and then it'll be over!" the girl snarled, her voice harsh with heavy breathing. "Save your energy and just give up now!"

__

That would explain the bullet wound, then, a tiny voice in Heero's subconscious offered. _She'll chase you until you collapse, if she has to._ Still, it was of no great matter. He had found what he had been looking for. Heero turned and laughed at the young woman, his eyes bright with fatigue. A long leap took him to the object of his desire**; a **small stone balcony jutting out from the wall, high into the air. With doe-like grace, he landed lightly on the narrow railing, his gun plucked from Hammer Space, held cocked and ready. Deliberately, he aimed before himself. 

The girl stopped, her eyes still flashing in the face danger. Wufei slipped bonelessly from her back to land in a heap at her heels. "Don't do it, boy," she warned. She pulled the gaping tear in her shirt open a bit. The bullet wound stared like an angry eye, pulsing with still-clotting blood. "You've seen what I can withstand. It'll take a lot to kill me."

Heero narrowed his eyes. The muzzle of the gun slowly changed aim. "But how much will it take to kill me?" The tip of the gun was buried in his thick mahogany hair, just above the ear. "You know, I've never really found out."

"Just get down from there, boy. You don't want to do this." The girl was inching closer, trying to keep him talking.

An eyebrow rose. "Don't I?" Heero's voice was wry. In a simultaneous motion, he pushed off the railing and fired...

  
_Well? Whaddaya think? Review and I'll add more! --Lady Phoenixdagger_


	3. Belle

Hello again __

Hello again! Lady PhoenixDagger here! Just a huge thanks for the great reviews I've been getting. Keep 'em coming. Also, next chapter may be a while in the making as exams are coming up (yuk). But I'll try my best to write as much as I can when they're over and done with.

Disclaimer: Although I completely_ forgot to say so in the last two chapters, I don't own Gundam Wing. Everything else in and around the Keep, however, is MINE!!!_

****

ALARYAN'S KEEP

PART I

"FREAKS"

Chapter III

"SHIIIIIIIIIT!!!! Shitshitshitshitshit!!!!!!!!"

Still screaming obscenities, Tama launched herself after the falling boy, praying she could catch him before his body hit the Moat.

With a bullet he still had a chance. With the destructive magic field of the Moat it all came down to just one single, damning touch.

The air whipped past her as she plummeted, tearing at her hair, gnawing painfully at the bullet wound nestled deep between her breasts. Grimly, she prayed her flight spell would hold her despite her condition. Quickly, she recited the incantation. After a spit-second of sheer panic, she felt herself rocket downwards towards the boy. 

__

Success!! She reached her arms out, barely a hand's breadth away.

Long strings of blood flowed from the boy's head, aided in their flight by his momentum. As Tama came closer to him, she realised she came dangerously close to the Moat. 

It crackled and snapped sharply, waiting for something –anything- to blunder in and be consumed. Normally it took in trash, or perhaps the random flight of a bird gave it a more nourishing meal, but now it waited hungrily for Tama and the boy, begging shamelessly for a new form of warm flesh.

The whites of the boy's wide-open eyes as she was finally able to reach for him. He was beautiful, really, with his dark lashes and thick, unruly hair. The Prussian blue eyes were large and wide, though marred by the blood dribbling from them. Tama found herself wanting to hold him. He was so small.

Like a mother with her child, Tama reached out and snatched the boy to her breast, cradling him close, despite her wounds, only inches away from the angry oblivion of the Moat.

*****

Tama floated in, landing lightly on the red-flecked balcony railing and stepped off, a bloody bundle wrapped tightly in her arms.

Relena, Catherine and Quatre stood stiffly, watching her touch down. Their captors watched as well, swords drawn. Trowa, Wufei and Duo lay limp at their feet. Relena's lips were tight. Catherine's hands were knotted. Quatre simply stood, staring into oblivion, his military training having taken over. He stood almost at attention, eyes staring straight ahead, his body taut. Tama set the rusty-red bundle on the floor, gently cradling its head. 

Relena's heart plummeted.

"HEERO!!!" she screamed, trying to run to him. The black-haired man took her firmly by the shoulders and pulled her back. 

"He's being taken care of."

Ria had gone to Heero's downed body, gently turning his head this way and that with the air of a calm, cool physician. A pool of blood was slowly puddling around his head like a gristly halo, soaking her as she knelt. If the young woman noticed, she gave no sign as she examined Heero's bullet wound. 

"Damn," Ria cursed softly, wiping her crimson hands on her thighs. "Darien, be a dear and suck the bullet out of his head, would you, please?"

"Get away from him!" Relena snapped as the man started for Heero.

"Let us help or let him die." The youngest girl rounded on Relena. She barely stood up to her shoulder, but to Relena she suddenly seemed a hundred feet tall. Her light eyes bored intensely into her own blue ones. "Choose if you will, but choose _fast_." 

Silently, Quatre took the sobbing Vice-Foreign Minister by the hand and gently led her away.

The man named Darien gave her a small, respectful bow and quickly knelt by Heero's head. Gently, he lifted it and began sucking at the wound, pausing only to spit out scarlet mouthfuls.

Sitting back on her heels, Ria watched. "The bullet missed his brain, but it severed his optic nerves, so we need to hurry if we want to keep his sight." Relena noted nervously that this woman talked as though she knew for a fact that Heero would live. Silently, she offered up a prayer. Peeking at Quatre, she saw him quietly doing the same.

Unaware of the inner genuflection going around her, Ria carefully reached around Darien and pressed two fingers just below Heero's chin, feeling for a pulse. "Slow and a bit irregular, but still there," she noted.

A faint _ting_ caught everyone's attention. Darien sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. The bloody bullet lay forlornly on the stone floor.

With the speed of a springing tiger, Ria's hands flew to Heero's head, seizing itfirmly. A loud moan escaped his lips as his back began to arch. A woman's scream echoed through the hall as fresh gouts of blood pumped from the wound. Relena realised with shock that it came from her. She forced her way forward.

"No!" Quatre grabbed her again, more roughly this time. "She's just jumpstarting his heart."

"How do you know that?" Relena gasped, tears rimming her eyes.

Puzzled, the Gentle Noble let go of her. "I…don't…My gundam training?" He seemed not to believe himself.

Back on the floor, Heero's back was arched even higher, almost bending him double. Ria's face was sheened in sweat. "Almost…almost…"

The group leaned in, watching for any sign of life. Any signs of earthly departure. Anything.

The signcame in a long, tortured gasp as Heero's body sought to refill his barren lungs.

Ria leapt to her feet and whooped in jubilation. "Yessss! We have _life_!!"

**

*****

**

Duo murmured sleepily to himself and rolled over in bed, away from the window and its bloody intrusive light. Then he sat up. 

__

Bed?

Confused, he looked around. The room he was in was made of huge stone blocks, but it was well-lit despite the sluggishly waning daylight due to several mirrors lining the walls and a large window. Five beds, including his, were lined up in row perpendicular to the window. Trowa, Wufei and Heero were in the beds to his right. Quatre was sitting up in the only one to his left, gingerly enjoying a steaming cup of fragrant tea. A woman in a simple blue dress sat beside him on a high stool, her own hands wrapped around a steaming teacup. 

Alerted by the noise Duo's bed made as he shifted and sat up, Quatre looked over at him. "Oh, hello, Duo." He sounded relaxed. Happy, even. "This is Belle. She's just telling me all about life here in Alaryan's Keep."

"Care for some tea?" the woman asked pleasantly. Her voice was soft and inviting, made even more so by her pretty face and shiny brown shoulder-length hair. Duo squinted, trying to pin an age on her, but gave up when he found he couldn't. 

"Huh! Figures!" The Great Shinigami snorted derisively through his nose and lay back against the headboard. "We get captured and taken prisoner and _you_ decide it's time for tea!"

"On the contrary, Duo Maxwell, you are free to leave the Keep as soon as we get a few matters settled." 

"My name isn't Duo Maxwell," Duo said automatically, his training taking over. _'Never let the enemy know your real name, boy,'_ Dr. G had said to him one day during a particularly difficult simulation when he was still young. _'If they have your name, they have your identity and sooner or later they'll have your life.'_

"Please don't tell lies, Duo dearest. It's quite an unattractive habit." The woman known as Belle sipped gingerly her tea; it was still very hot. "Quatre didn't have to tell me your names, I knew them already. Besides, if you were really prisoners, we would have had you chained down." She gestured at Wufei's bed, to which he was shackled by the wrists and ankles. "Like your violent little friend over there."

Doomsday visions of what would happen when Wufei woke up danced before Duo's eyes. He shuddered and tried not to think about it. In the bed next to him, Trowa murmured uneasily in his sleep and rolled over. _What the hell is going on? _Duo frowned mentally. _First they kidnap us, then they sedate us and now they treat us to tea?_

"And scones, dear," Belle said blandly. "Incidentally, what was there to sedate? If my memory serves me correctly, you ran head-on into a solid stone wall." Her beautiful face suddenly breaking into a smile, she held a small dish out to Duo. "Care for a scone?"

"Thanks." Never being one to turn down sugar, Duo took the proffered pastry and bit into it before something finally clicked. "Whoa, whoa, waitaminute…"

"Where's Cathy," a low voice broke in from the bed next to Duo's. It was not a statement that asked "where?" but rather a demand that said "I will be told" in no uncertain terms. Trowa sat up, his eyes glittering like a pair of poisonous emeralds in the afternoon sun.

Sipping again at her tea, Belle crossed and re-crossed her legs before answering. "She's with Relena, Trowa dear. She's thinking about you, too. She's quite worried." 

Duo choked down his bite of scone. "Oooookay…this is getting weird." He caught the Silencer's raised eyebrow and coughed. "Scone?" he asked, breaking off a piece. Trowa waved it away, his green orbs fixed firmly on the mysterious woman sitting calmly by Quatre's bedside.

"Worried. Really…" he murmured, catching the placating look in the Gentle Noble's own aquamarine eyes. _Please be patient, she means us no harm, _they seemed to say.

The woman and the three boys sat in silence a while, amidst the sounds of clinking china and testily creaking bedsteads. Nearby, a church bell tolled the hour: six o'clock. No one moved, save for the weary twisting of the boys as they began to feel their muscles begin to cramp. Furtively, Duo stole a look at Quatre every now and then, for he looked faintly ill. Belle simply watched them, smiling softly all the while. Presently, the teapot was emptied and the scone plate was cleaned of all but two. The brown-haired woman crossed and recrossed her legs.

"Well!" she said, startling the hell out of the boys before her. "Seeing as most of you five are awake, I suppose we can get down to-"

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, YOU STUPID, EMPTY-HEADED, HALF-WITTED WOMAN!?!?!?!?!"

"I see your friend is finally up," the woman sighed. "Quatre, do be a darling and hand me that last scone, will you dear? Thank you."

_Pretty thing. _Duo watched appreciatively the sway of Belle's hips as she made her way over to Wufei's bedside. _Big eyes, nice hips, sexy walk. Niiiiiice._

"Don't be an ass, Duo dear!" Belle looked up from Wufei's still-screaming body, her voice raised over furious shouts of "DAMMIT, WOMAN, UNCHAIN ME!!". "I'm happily married." 

Duo swallowed. _Again_ with the weirdness. 

"YOU STUPID BI-ulp!!!!" Wufei's eyes blazed hellfire from behind a black currant scone jammed firmly in his mouth.

Ignoring him, Belle perched on the end of Heero's bed. "Now, down to business. My name, as some of you already know, is Belle Ichara and this-" she spread her hands in a grand 'here we are' gesture "-is Alaryan's Keep, a place of life, magic and higher learning." 

"Ooooh," Duo snorted sarcastically. Belle waved the last scone menacingly at him and sullenly, he fell silent. 

"You and your lady friends fell through a small tear in what we call the Bond," Belle continued on, setting a shapely hand on Heero's knee. He sighed and squirmed, but did not wake.

"Yeah, great. So, like, where are we?" queried Duo, unimpressed. He reclined in his own bed and put his hands behind his head with a sigh. "Earth? The Colonies? The Sanc Kingdom, perhaps? Yeah, I'll bet this is the Sanc Kingdom. Zech and Noin are probably just playing some stupid joke on us or something, right?"

For the first time since they had met, Belle looked uncomfortable. "You…are on Earth…" she said slowly. "…but…"

"Yes?" Trowa prompted.

"…not your Earth so much as _ours_…"

"Come again?"

The shapely hand moved from Heero's knee and reached into a dress pocket. A tiny, opalescent teardrop was pulled out and held to the light for a moment. "Dreamdrop," Belle explained. "Observe." Flicking her wrist, she tossed it into the air. It hung there for a moment, suspending itself in midair, revolving slowly. The room was suddenly filled with an image of blackest outer space. Hundreds of infinitesimal spots glittered around the room, connected by thin white threads. The ex-pilots gazed around in wonder. Belle stood and flicked her wrist, causing a folding pointer to drop into her palm. 

"This," she said, indicating a small whorl just past Quatre's right ear, "is my –sorry, _our_- universe."

She pointed to another blue-grey smudge above Heero's head. Duo noticed briefly that his head was bandaged around the eyes. _Huh, they'll probably be a bit sensitive to light when Heero wakes up,_ Duo surmised correctly. Belle went on, still pointing. "This was your universe."

"Was?"  


"The Bond," Belle pointed to the thin line connecting the smudge and the whorl, "pulled you here." Again the pointer was aimed just past Quatre's ear.

"Excuse me, _was_?" 

Belle closed her exquisite brown eyes. "The Bond then quickly severed itself upon pulling you here. Thus…" she hesitated a moment and dropped her gaze to the floor. The boys stared at her, even Wufei, who had relieved himself of his makeshift gag watched in minute horror as the ageless woman steeled herself to finish the sentence. "Thus…your world…it…it was…" Wetness gleamed at the corners of her eyes and she began to whisper. "…it was…"

The boy leaned in as her voice got fainter and fainter.

Breathing in deeply, Belle said the damning words the ex-pilots dreaded to hear: 

"…it was destroyed…" 


	4. “The universe is dead. I feel nothing…”

Hi __

Hi! Okay, so even with the pressures of studying for exams, you guys goaded me into putting up another chapter. Meanies… *//.^* -Lady PhoenixDagger

I don't own Gundam Wing. Everything else here, however, is alllllll MINE!!!!

Destroyed.

__

The word snapped like a burning brand over sensitive flesh as it hung shivering in the late afternoon sunshine before it died.

__

Destroyed. My world…my home…destroyed.

Quatre swallowed, feeling the sharply painful lump forming in his throat. He didn't know how, but he knew this mysterious woman known as Belle was telling the truth. Tears flooded his eyes, blurring the sceptical faces of his comrades. The sick feeling which had been gnawing at his stomach since he had come to this place worsened, causing him to almost double over in pain. A small dark spot appeared on the sheets before him as his wretchedly dammed tears began to fall. Frustrated, the Gentle Noble scrubbed a fist over his eyes.

Wufei snorted derisively from his bed, trying to sit up as well as he could with his bonds holding him back. "Quite a grand lie you're telling, woman."

The woman's eyes darkened dangerously. "I do not lie, boy," she said slowly. "Your world is naught."

Wufei's obsidian eyes slitted half-shut like those of a snake. "I don't believe you, woman."

"She's right."

All heads turned towards Quatre. "I felt the wrench when were brought here," he continued. "That horrible, sickening, tearing wrench. Lord, everything feels so different here. Can't you feel it?" His voice became thick with tears, but if he noticed, he didn't let on. "There's no Heart of Space out here. The universe is dead. I feel nothing…" He began to sob.

The other boy's faces froze in horror. They had learned to trust with their very lives their comrade's innate ability to read deep into the universe and drink deeply of her secrets while others simply looked on. Before the ex-pilots had drifted apart, Quatre had passed many a dull safehouse hour by pulling predictions out of his head and jokingly trying to guess what the other boys were thinking. But the joke quickly fell through as he always got the other boys' innermost thoughts dead on and eventually his predictions ceaselessly came true. Wufei's triumphant look melted into one of pure horror as he watched the blond Arab cry. 

"And everyone else?" Quatre managed to choke out. "Did anyone else survive?" The others looked to Belle, afraid of the answer. 

Belle's gaze dropped to her lap. Slowly, so slowly, she shook her head. "Only you."

Thoughts of the Manguanacs and of Quatre's sisters flashed unbidden like frightened children through his mind. Of childlike Iria, who had treated him when he was hurt. Of hulking Rasheed, who had always been his rock to lean on in times of need. Of slinky Achmed and his dark glasses that never, ever left his face. 

__

Gone.

This time the tears began to fall in earnest. Gone. All gone. Vaguely through his tears he became aware of someone holding him close, stroking his hair. Holding the stricken youth within the circle of her arms, Belle murmured soothing sounds in his ear.

But Quatre knew they wouldn't help. All he could do was offer up a desperate prayer and hope that whatever it was that had massacred his homeland had killed his loved ones quickly and painlessly.

****

He's crying. Aunt Belle, why does he cry? 

Quatre's eyes flew open. That voice… In his head…

****

I feel pain. I feel _his_ pain. Such repulsive pain for someone so young…

A thudding, throbbing pain lowered itself on Quatre's chest, at once heavy and sharp. Confused, he pushed away Belle's embrace and lurched to his feet, grasping his chest, striving to breathe. _I must…find him…Ease the pain…_ he thought muzzily._ He fears…he is…he is in pain…_

****

Please. Flee from here. The inner voice was thin, strained.** The risk…**

__

No…

Quatre moaned and staggered from the room, realising with peculiar detachment that he had been stripped while he was unconscious and was now clad in a knee-length night-shirt of undyed cotton. Barefoot, he stumbled into the hallway, daggers of agony tearing unseen beneath his clammy skin.

"It…_burns_," Quatre gasped, but pressed on. The flagstones were cool beneath his feet and worn smooth with years of being walked on. But no one was in the hallway now, save for Quatre and his shroud of pain.

****

Leave me, the voice begged once more.

__

No. 

Another wave of agony forced him down on one knee to catch his breath. The slapping sounds of the others' bare feet on the stone floor forced Quatre to stand and go on. 

****

It comes! The voice screamed. **Flee! It will kill you!**

"I don't care!" Quatre found himself shouting aloud. The pain grew with every step, but he didn't heed it as long as each step took him to his unknown goal. "You can't die!" Why did he care so for something –some_one_- he couldn't even see? Why this crippling sense of urgency? Somewhere inside himself, he could feel the sick feeling burst into full-blown nausea.

"Quatre!" 

Th Gentle Noble moaned and forced himself into a weary half-sprint. The dull, blood-curdling pain made his limbs spasm, yet grimly he ran on, his mind on his purpose of finding this pain-wracked individual. He could already feel the pain intensifying. He was getting closer.

****

Get back! Please, if you value your very life, get away from here! 

__

NO! 

Quatre's hands twitched uncontrollably as he ran down the empty hallway. Already his feet were numbing from the slap-slapping his feet made on the cold stone floor. Rows of unremarkable doors flashed by as the pain grew, filling Quatre with a kind of grim satisfaction.

"Quatre, NO!!!" screamed Belle, her supple cloth slippers making no sound on the flagstones. Ahead of her, Duo, Trowa and Wufei -who had ripped himself free from his hempen bonds- were catching up. 

The Gentle Noble looked down at his hand, which had the handle of one of the doors in a death grip. Panting, he rested his head against the cool wood. Muffled cries and moans came to him from the room beyond. The pain was exquisite, branding Quatre's body with a hellish agony. With a deep breath, he opened the door and charged in, the others hot on his heels.

****

Please child! As the Lord of this Keep, I beg you to leave me! the voice cried in a final desperate plea.

Quatre's eyes filled with tears as he saw the young man writhing in agony on a narrow bed soaked in sweat and freshly spilled blood. His fiery red hair was plastered to his head and his eyes, the colour of new daffodils, were bright with pain. The horrid agony overwhelmed Quatre then and he fell heavily to his knees, breaking down into tears. For although he had found the source of the voice, he had no idea what to do now that he was there. Moaning and crying out in pain, the young man twisted and contorted as the blond Arab sobbed. The three women and the black-haired man the boys had encountered were there, expressions of purest horror etched on their faces.

"Good lord…" Duo moaned.

****

It comes! the young man's inner voice sobbed.** I can't hold it any longer!**

The young man's back arched and through his own tears, Quatre could see thin black tentacles threading sinuously under his skin. Bravely, Quatre tried to look the man in the face, but his was an unseeing rictus of pain, bathed in sweat and christened in blood.

His scream was deafening as the claws tore through his chest from the inside.

Quatre's own scream was matched by Belle's own shrill keen as the man's pain exploded inside him. He felt keenly his own internal organs being cruelly shoved aside as the wickedly serrated claws ripped away strips of insulating muscle and fat to get to the outside. Skin tore apart, giving way to what could under special circumstances as a hand. Slimy with blood and seemingly stripped of all skin, it was twice again as large as a grown man's hand. Ribs cracked as it groped around the writhing man's torso. One of the women bolted from the room, screaming for someone.

In his red haze, Quatre could only watch in horror as the hand gave birth to an arm, all slick muscle covered in gore.

A flash of brown flew by Quatre then, but in its veil of fear and pain his brain could not discern what it was. His ears were filled with the sounds of screaming and the sickening _squishishish_ of the putrid limb shoving aside vital organs. Behind him, he could hear Wufei retching and a voice –Duo's?- feverishly muttering in prayer.

And then, blessed, blessed darkness came and with all-enveloping arms swept him away.

_

*****

_

That's all I've got for now. For an added Alaryan hit, check out "Motherless Children" in the original fiction section by me! It's the story that gave birth to both of the characters of Walker and Darien and thier circumstances. There are a few differences, but it's still a good read, so do take a look, won't you? –L.P.D. 


	5. Dulcet

The life of Dulcet Anderman had once been a normal one __

I'm free! Exams are OVER!!! More time for Gundam!! Wahoo!!! –Lady PhoenixDagger

Gundam not mine. Everything else is. Capice? Good.

****

ALARYAN'S KEEP

PART I

"FREAKS"

Chapter V

The life of Dulcet Anderman had once been a normal one. He had lived in a normal little red brick house in the suburbs with a small flower garden in the front and a hammock strung between two maple trees in the back. He'd had a wife, two teenage children and a dog named Kipper and his medical practice was moderately successful. All was well for him and although life wasn't great, it was good and Dulcet was content with the way things were going. 

At least until he'd heard of the Black Hood.

Dulcet's children had gone to of their rallies for genetic experimentation and were immediately ensnared by the smooth talk and promises of a bright future ahead. Intrigued by what he himself saw and not pulling in what he thought he should be at the clinic, Dulcet had decided to go to work for Black Hood as a doctor. The horrors of that place still haunted him today, seeing the misshapen freaks being created from racks and racks of vials and test tubes made only to be used and then thrown away like so much uncomplaining trash.

"Dr Anderman?" the orderly had asked him when he had gotten there on his first day, looking quizzically at a plastic clipboard in his hands. "Oh, yeah. You're working with models 25708A and B, just down the hall in C ward."

Before he had met his new charges, Dulcet had been warned time and time again not to nurture any feelings towards these patients. He was to study them and see to their medical needs and that was all; the relationship was not to go any further than the business end of a hypodermic syringe. But all at once upon meeting them, he had fallen for these tiny children known as 25708A and 25708B with their big eyes and dainty bodies like a father to a pair of newborn sons. They were emotionally silent towards him, of course, not even capable of returning his smiles, but he had loved them all the same. He'd even go in early some days when time allowed to play with them, tossing balls he brought for them to catch or use a bandana he usually brought to play tug of war. The boys were surprisingly strong and agile for two so young and they caught on quickly to things, making up new stratagems as the situation called for them. He regaled his wife and children with tale after tale of his charges, whom he secretly named Walker and Darien after his father and grandfather until they had gotten sick of them. Dulcet secretly delighted in flouting the rules under his new bosses' noses and his love of "his" boys grew ever more each day.

And then Black Hood had found him out. 

From that day forward, Dulcet's life was destroyed. He came home one day to find his family murdered and his home razed to the ground. He was captured and his body used as a guinea-pig for a human/lynx dihybrid cross-genetics experiment, leaving him with a head that looked almost exactly like that of his more feline half, and a thick pelt of reddish-brown fur that covered his whole body. Then he had been thrown out into the world all alone to face the lions. Alaryan's Keep had taken him in and later on they had accepted his tiny charges when no one else would.

And now they needed him.

"Give me a sheet!" he snapped, snapping on rubber gloves and a facemask. It was an unnecessary thing, really. 25708B, or Walker as he was now legally known, could not be affected by infection or foreign matter in the blood stream, but this small ritual helped Dulcet do what he needed to do, so there was no real harm in doing it. "I can't see past all the blood!"

Tama grabbed a relatively unstained sheet and gingerly began to dab at the wound. Walker's moans became shrill screams as the arm –now exposed to the elbow- flailed violently to fend off the alien sheet. A dull thud past Dulcet's line of vision told him that the pain had finally proved too much for Darien, dropping him like a poled ox to the stone floor. Fine. One last person to get in the way.

Muttering sharply under his breath, Dulcet had yanked a hypodermic syringe from his sub space pocket and began to prep it. (Author's Note: Though I don't like putting AN's in this fic, it's necessary right about now. Like Hammer Space, this world also has the phenomenon of outer-world pockets in which objects ranging in size from the head of a pin to about the size of a large pizza box can be kept.) A low moan issued from Walker's lips caught Dulcet's attention. Carefully, he leaned in and cocked a fuzzy triangular ear. Walker was trying to speak between tortured moans and gasps of pain.

"T-t-t-t-tell them…" He gasped suddenly, cutting himself off as the arm shifted. A low guttural growl came from somewhere underneath Walker's pelvic bone.

"Yes?" Dulcet probed gently, lifting the sodden bangs from his charge's forehead. The trick was not to look worried and rile his patient any further, though to tell the truth Dulcet was screaming in rage inside as he watched his beloved charge die just a little more before his eyes. He fought to remain calm and even managed a watery smile. "Who?"

"…new…children…tell…everything…" He paused, trying to form the words from under his personal veil of pain. "…about…_us_…"

Solemnly, Dulcet nodded and clasped Walker's sweaty hand. The young man sighed and closed his eyes. "Do…it…" he gasped.

Drawing in his breath, Dulcet drew back and plunged the needle deep into Walker's jugular. Grimly, he injected and waited for the part he hated most.

A shrill, horrid cry erupted from Walker's torn chest, much like the keen of a dying banshee. The arm writhed and contracted and, with a sound that never failed to twist Dulcet's stomach, sucked back into the wound. 

*****

When it was all over, Misty sucked back a draught of air and sat back on her heels, Darien's shaggy head still cradled in her lap.

"Good lord." Darien stirred and stiffly sat up. His hands went to his head as though he wanted to touch the mental bond he and Walker shared. "It's never been this bad before. It was like our nerves were on fire." 

"Mmmmh," Misty said absently, running her weary finger's through his raven hair. "Sit still. Rest a moment."

With great care, Dulcet pulled the needle from the now-unconscious Walker's neck and tossed into the wastebasket by the nightstand where it clinked against at least ten others. He frowned. Of course, _he_ would be the one to look into getting someone to empty it. Sighing, he turned back to Walker. As usual, the wound was already closed, a rapidly fading pink mark showing where the limb had burst through.

"What the hell was that?" Wufei's voice cut shakily through the brittle silence of the room. He, Duo and Trowa huddled around Quatre's still form, mixtures of fear and hatred blazing in their eyes. Belle was kneeling close to them, arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Loops of rope were still around the Chinese boy's wrists from where he had torn them from the mattress.

"_That_ was a little gift from Black Hood," Dulcet said grimly. His gloves snapped loudly as he pulled them off, making everyone else in the room jump.

"Nice guy," Duo remarked quirkily. One would guess there was a mood of total fearlessness in this one, had his hands not held each other in such a tight death grip.

"Corporation, actually." The lynx-man sighed, passing a hand over his weary face. "They're the cause of most of the bad shit that happens around here."

"Ah, of course." Duo's eyes glazed a moment as the absurdity of the situation hit him all at once. "Being chased by a giant geyser and then again by some weirdos with swords through some giant medieval castle, only to wake up to some freaky-ass lady who can read my thoughts offering us scones and tea and then seeing some sort of giant zombie hand bursting from some guy's chest and waving itself around before being fended off by some guy who looks like he's half housecat? Silly me! Who else could have caused that but big business? Ahahaha."

"Lynx," Dulcet smugly pointed out.

"Huh?"

"I was crossed with a lynx, not a housecat. Besides," he sniffed, "I'm much cuter.

"Right. Sorry." Duo looked like he was ready to cry.

Shifting slightly, Belle knelt at his side. "It's been a long afternoon and you have seen much," she murmured gently, wearily. "Go on back to your room and rest. I will have supper sent up to you by and by. Everything will be made right in the morning." She put her slender hand on the small of Duo's back, feeling the tense muscles beneath the material of his nightshirt. Duo tensed further at her touch, but even his resolve to refuse contact from this strange, motherly woman dissolved as she began to stroke his back much like a child would stroke the soft fur of a newly born kitten. The barrier broke and he softly began to cry. "Come." Belle gently took his hands and stood. "You all need some food and rest."

"What about Quatre?" Trowa murmured in uncharacteristic stubbornness. He held Quatre now like a baby in his arms, his pallor still a sickly green. Trowa's own body seemed to sag from the inside as the emotional fatigue caught up with him. 

Smiling softly, Belle brushed back the boy's straw blond hair. "Ah, my little empath. He needs only some rest and he will be fine in the morning." She looked critically at him. "You need rest as well, little harlequin. You can see Catherine soon. It will be better for everyone's nerves if all of you shared a room tonight, I think." 

Trowa nodded, still cradling his friend in his arms.

Wufei stood, shoulders back, spine erect. Aside from the obvious evidence of what he had eaten earlier lying forlornly in a puddle on the cold flagstone floor, one could almost believe the previous event hadn't even remotely touched him. "Let me cut my bonds," he demanded quietly, a murderous glint in his onyx eyes. Shrugging, Belle flicked a tiny penknife from her sub space pocket and tossed it to him. 

"Suit yourself, child," she said. "I will have the girls and two more beds sent up to your room soon. Have something to eat and try to rest as best you can after witnessing such as sight." Three pairs of eyes involuntarily slid their gazes to the still-unconscious form lying on the blood-stained bed. "Try to get a good night's sleep," Belle said in a cautionary tone. "I shall come to collect you in the morning. Walker has requested you learn about what has happened in the past to cause this horror to grow within him and there is much to cover."

*****

__

That's all for now, but never fear!! More chapters are being born faster than I can muster up the energy to get up off my ass and post them! More to come soon!

Ja!

L.P.D. *//.^*


	6. Morning

__

Hi! Me again! Uhm, not much to say here. Just hi.

I don't own Gundam Wing. I do, however, own Alaryan's Keep and all her inhabitants and to steal them may result in a whole troupe of dancing monkeys to come to your home and beat you silly. This has been a public service announcement. –Lady PhoenixDagger 

****

ALARYAN'S KEEP

PART I

"FREAKS"

Chapter VI

The next day dawned bright and sunny with cheery birdsong filling the air. Heero's bed creaked slightly under Relena's weight as she leaned forward to see him better. She sat on the edge in a light sleeping gown which was supposed to close from the centre of her chest up with a network of complicated laces. Needless to say, Relena was glad Heero's eyes were bound, as she couldn't seem to figure out how to get the damned laces tied up and so left them wide open and hanging along the soft contours of her breasts. 

Carefully, she ran her hands through the Perfect Soldier's mat of thick, chocolate hair, revelling in the softness of it running through her fingers like water. _He's so beautiful,_ Relena mused, brushing a smooth fingertip across Heero's surprisingly soft cheek.

"Does that feel nice?" she asked softly, imagining Heero's assenting nod and smile and then the sweet feeling of his own strong fingers twining through her own honey blonde locks. But she knew in her heart of hearts that this would never happen. Relena would forever be two things to Heero Yuy. She would always be either a mission or a nuisance to him, but never a lover. There were still nights when she dreamed that they stood alone in some secluded place, simply holding each other, lips touching gently, not saying anything, just basking in the warmth of one another. On these same nights, Relena woke in sweat-soaked anguish when her dreams became too real and her body searched for him in her bed, only to find the world to be the exact same as when she last left it. She would still be alone and he would still not love her. Trembling slightly, Relena's thumbs slid down to Heero's lips, delicately caressing the smoothness of them. "Pretty mouth," she murmured, half to herself, half to Heero. 

"You know, Princess, you'll eventually rub his face off if you keep doing that," Catherine's sly whisper came at Relena's back. Humiliated, the "Princess" quickly felt her face heat up into a blush.

"Here." Catherine handed her a steaming cup of tea. "There's a tray by the window over there." She smirked. "It came about a half hour ago while you were busy rubbing down loverboy."

By now Relena's face was flaming. _Rubbing down? Loverboy!?_ "That's not nice, Cathy!" she spluttered, further humiliated to feel her face heating up even more. 

Catherine just smirked and went to wake Trowa.

"Ugh, ooh, _man_…" came the moan from Duo's bed. It creaked as he sat up. "I'm still here!" he cried.

Heero's still form suddenly drew in deeply a breath of morning air and sat up, awakened by Duo's less-than-brilliant observation. Carefully he felt along the bandage and pulled it off. From her perch, Relena watched him blink slowly in the brilliant sunlight like some form of beautiful wildcat. 

"Relena," Heero murmured, his face softening briefly before returning to its normal blank countenance. 

"Good morning," Relena murmured back, shyly rising from her little corner of the bed. _Welcome back to good old stupid reality, Princess, _she sighed to her herself._ Well, maybe for once he'll give me an actual answer instead of that damn non-committal grunt he's so fond of_.

"Hn."

__

Of course.

Trowa, Duo and Wufei approached the bedside, quietly so as not to wake Quatre, who was still resting in his own bed. Catherine was across the room at the tray of food, pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee.

Wufei leaned against the stone wall, rubbing his wrists, which were now stained an angry red from rope burn. "Welcome to purgatory, Yuy," he said acidly, still rubbing.

"Good morning to you too, Wufei," Heero said back, dead-voiced, as usual. "I heard everything. It doesn't take too much to look unconscious."

"Yeah, but you were lucky enough to miss the really weird shit." Duo's hands found the end of his braid and nervously began to toy with it. "Years –no, centuries!- of training couldn't have prepared us for what happened last night! It was, like, out of a science fiction novel or something!"

Quickly, Trowa filled Heero in on the previous night's events, sparing none of the gory details.

"Uh, huh," was all Heero said.

Relena stood up and began pacing the room, restless with her uselessness in the matter. "We need to speak to this Belle woman and learn all we can about this place from her. She seems kind enough to tell us the truth."

"She did say she would come to 'collect us in the morning', so we'll see her soon, I guess," Duo pointed out. "She called Quatre something before she left us for the night. Uhhh…an epitaph? Something like that?"

"_Empath._" Trowa took a book of old fantasy stories he had been recently reading out of Hammer Space. "Ahhh…" he calmly flipped through the pages while Duo tried in vain to look over his shoulder. "Here it is. An empath is someone who physically shares in the pain or emotions of others." He looked over at Quatre, who still lay peacefully sleeping. "Hm. Sounds like Quatre all right." Casually, he flipped the book back into Hammer Space and reclined against the wall next to Wufei. "Did Belle say when she would be-" 

"Good morning." Belle's musical voice chirped from the door. Her hair was pulled back from her shoulders today and she wore a medieval-looking dress considerably like the one she had worn the day before. There was a large wicker basket balanced on her hip. "Have you had your fill to drink?"

Nods.

"Very good." She set the basket on a vacant bed and stood back. "Your clothing has been mended and cleaned. Dress quickly and then we can all go downstairs and get some breakfast. Alright?"

More nods and a general reach for the basket. Trowa woke Quatre and gave him his clothes, which were spotless and smelled faintly of wildflowers. "How are you feeling?" the taller boy asked quietly. 

"Better." Quatre replied, sitting up and unfolding his freshly-pressed shirt. "My head stopped hurting and I don't feel like I'm going to throw up anymore."

"Mm. That's good." Trowa looked around the room and smiled faintly at the tangible pall of discomfort which quickly fell as everyone soon realised that though they now had clothes, what they really needed was somewhere in which to put them on. Relena and Duo were alternating between looking at each other and the bundles of clothing in each other's arms, blushing all the while. Wufei was scowling. Also blushing, Catherine seemed to be utterly fascinated with the ceiling. Heero, of course, had already stripped down to his shorts and was currently in the act of pulling on his jeans. A thin smile of amusement was painted over Belle's ageless face.

"There _is_ a men's room here, you know. Down the hall, third door on the right." Belle pointed. "Move out!" 

The boys trooped out, leaving Relena and Catherine to dress alone. Sighing, Relena tugged on the shorts she had been wearing what seemed to be eons ago and reached for her blouse. _This day will certainly prove to be interesting._ She looked down to pull off her nightgown and was suddenly faced with a sickening realisation: the ties on her gown were still undone, giving the world a generous peek at her partly exposed breasts. _Oh, lord!! Heero and the others were _looking_ at me!!_

****

Don't worry dear, came a kindly voice in Relena's head.** They were polite enough to look elsewhere. **

"Thank goodne-" A sudden thought dawned on Relena. "Ah…"How did one go about asking such a question? "How-"

Belle laughed, a sound that reminded Relena of a multitude of brightly tinkling bells. "It's just a talent of mine, darling. I am a psionicist and an empath, like your friend Quatre. I can read minds and communicate with people inside their heads, along with a few other added perks. Right now the boys are justrealising that they made it aaaaall the way to the jacks and halfway back under _my_ power and not their own." She laughed again. "You should hear the swear words going through Wufei's head right now." 

Catherine's mouth was hanging open in shock. As Belle looked at her, she shut it with a guilty snap. "What am I thinking right now?" she demanded.

Belle's grin never faltered. "You are thinking about Trowa in a pair of puffy yellow pants with stars on them and a funny neck-ruff and a porcelain half mask with a wide red smile." She paused. "That's not very nice, Cathy. We may be from different worlds, but I can assure you that that type of hand gesture is quite universal."

Catherine at least had the decency to blush as Belle shooed them from the room and into the hall. They met the boys coming back from the men's jacks, freshly scrubbed and dressed. Quatre's hair was damp. Trowa smelled of toothpaste. Wufei still scowled.

"I trust you found the jacks to your liking?" Belle asked, cool as ever.

At this Wufei's face turned beet red. "What did you do to us woman!?!?"

"Why Chang, my dear. I was just helping you all find the little boys' room," Belle said, innocently batting her eyes at him. One could almost see the halo rising from her head. 

This time Wufei's face turned a rich shade of purple. "How dare you call me by me given name!!!"

Belle's smile turned frosty. "A pity," she said, ice coating her words and inch thick. "So bright and yet so full of rage. Such a waste of such a brilliant mind." She turned to the others, leaving Wufei to sputter at her. "Come. We have to eat. They are waiting for us."

"Who?" queried Quatre, running his fingers through his still-wet hair. 

"Friends," was all Belle would say.

*****

__

More soon! Ja!

--L.P.D.


	7. Breakfast

Hi __

Hi! Sorry it's been a while, but my cousin from California decided to invite herself over with her husband and four whiny, annoying children. So I was stuck babysitting the little…*holds breath, composes self*…darlings. They just left yesterday, so now I am finally free to keep writing. –Lady PhoenixDagger 

Four of the most powerful men in the world sat down to eat breakfast. It was a private ritual they had been practising for centuries, every Saturday at eight o'clock sharp in a seldom-used room in the Keep. Wizened and wrinkled, these men were the oldest in the world, the youngest of the four having just rounded off his fifth century only a scant decade ago. 

They had lived longer than most family names ever did, doing more than any one man could do in several lifetimes. One had been the son of a lord in his homeland of what was now called Wales; two others were half-brothers, sons to a dead-eyed whore who walked the streets of old England late at night; the last was the son of a common Jewish money lender from Germany. Their lives had borne them to walk in different directions, yet age and the pursuit of magic had brought them together and forged their separate lives in the fires of brotherhood. These men had also taken on the names and identities of more men than they cared to recall, for an old man who has managed to live around the neighbourhood for about four centuries without dying tends to stand out among the general populace. So for now, they were Nat, Gil, Talon and Zach.

Gillem Ichara –as he was known for the present- was Head Librarian of the Keep's several huge libraries. A solidly built man with waist-length, snow-white hair and a vast expanse of beard, he exuded an air of involuntary kindness about him. His eyes were deep brown and his face –not to mention the rest of him- was cragged all over with wrinkles and laugh lines. This was to be expected of a man of his age, of course. As Talon wryly liked to point out, six-hundred-year-old men tended to look a little different than they did on their twenty-first birthdays. Vainly trying to keep the crumbs from falling into his beard, Gil was at the moment eating a bagel with lox on it. Nat sat on his right, sitting a little further away than usual, complaining about how much he hated the smell of smoked fish so early in the morning. Gil had tried to understand, but had given it up years ago, chalking it up to good old familiar routine. Honestly, _he_ couldn't smell anything.

"Wakey, wakey, Gil. I asked for the jam."

Absently, Gil reached over and handed the small pot of strawberry jam to Talon, a thin, wiry man with shoulder-length white hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He was the youngest of the four and Head of Intelligence at the Keep, a position which earned him all sorts of snide jokes from the others. 

"Thanks, Spaceman."

"Mmm."

"What's with the silent treatment, Gil?" Zach asked. Zach –who he always had to tell telemarketers and others who had never heard his name said that Zach rhymed with "thatch" and not "mack" as others seemed to think- was Talon's older half-brother by about eight years, thinner and wiry-er with a dry crackling quality to his voice. His hair was also white and, like Gil's, it reached all the way to his waist. Unlike the other three men, however, his face was clean-shaven. The others liked to tease him about it, calling him the "rebel" of the group. 

"Hum?" Gil mumbled, his teeth already sinking deep into his bagel.

"You haven't said more than three words since we sat down to eat," Zach said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh." The bagel was set down. "It's those kids that came through the Bond just yesterday. Belle is getting rather attached to them, it would seem."

Zach raised a five-hundred-and-eighteen-year-old eyebrow. "Oho… I see. She wants to hear the pitter-patter of little feet, no?"

"Hardly little." Laughing, Gil drank down the last of his coffee. Then he rearranged his robes, dumping any stray bagel crumbs to the stone floor. "But still feet nonetheless. I don't mind, really. It's all about how Kari's going to take this new development."

Talon, who had managed to survive over half a millennia without ever having to wear a ring on his finger, stretched, adding the crumbs from his own robes onto the rapidly growing collection on the floor. "So just tell Belle that you don't want to-"

He was cut short by three pairs of incredulous eyes staring at him over the coffee pot.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. Your wives are smarter than you are." He bowed slightly in his chair to Zach. "Or were," he added, acknowledging Eirryn, Zach's wife, who had died about twenty years ago at the hands of Black Hood. Zach was grandfather to Walker, Darien, Ria, Tama and Misty on their mother's side. A couple of years before Zach's daughter, Marrigan and her husband Ali had adopted Walker and Darien, Eirryn was brutally killed by a poison dart in a raid against the Keep arranged by Black Hood. This event forever eclipsed Zach's life as he held her in his arms, watching her die, slowly, painfully from the poison burning like acid through her veins. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as everyone tried to remember what the Keep was like when Eirryn still walked the earth. 

Nat, the oldest of the group at around ten centuries old, coughed. "They're only smarter when they think they're right, Talon," he said wryly. "Only when they think they're right." 

Talon grinned. "That's why I never married. It means I'm always right! Even if it is by default."

Zach snorted. "Huh! That'll be the day. Imagine that…Talon actually being right."

"Oh, shut up."

"Well, guess what, gentlemen. Belle _knows_ she's right, so there's no point in arguing," Gil said firmly. "Now, do any of you geniuses know where I can get my hands on seven extra beds?"

******

"Stop staring, Duo dear. It's impolite."

"Uhhh…yeah…" Duo's eyes darted like hummingbirds on speed in their sockets. Belle, the ex-pilots, Relena and Catherine were sitting on narrow benches pulled up to a long wooden table in Alaryan's Keep's main dining hall, breakfasting on eggs, toast, juice, some sort of cereal thing and dozens of other dishes. Normally, with this sort of spread, Duo would have eaten until he couldn't see his own feet, -hypothetically speaking, of course- which was a throwback from so many days of straight starving back home on L2. Today, however, he was too busy looking at the other folks eating and laughing around him to even see his own omelette getting stone cold in front of him.

"Maxwell, sit _still_!" Wufei hissed.

Duo made a face at him and took a bite of stone-cold omelette (ugh, gross) and resumed staring. The hall was huge, with fat stone columns going up the long ends of the stone room. Long tables covered the floor and the cheerful clink of silverware filled the air.

With the kind of extreme care that comes from years of fine etiquette training, Quatre set down his fork and wiped his mouth. "They're beautiful, aren't they, Duo?" he said quietly, indicating the other diners. "Like jewels in the sun."

Duo watched the light twinkle on the heads of the other…folks…in the dining room. There had to be at least three or four hundred of them, chatting and eating and from what Belle said, there were more in other parts of the Keep. Their heads were lizard-like –indeed as was the rest of them- with wide eyes and sparkling, pebbly skin in hues of ruby, sapphire, onyx, emerald and diamond. Their clothing was simple and much the same, consisting of light-coloured shirts or blouses and dark breeches or long shirts topped with brightly coloured sashes. Aprons, vest, light cloaks and jackets dotted the masses of living jewels.

"Pass the butter, please," came a voice from behind.

Blinking, Duo grabbed the butter pat and turned halfway around in his seat before noticing it was a ruby-hued lizard-woman reaching for it.

"Hi." Duo was uncomfortably aware of how shy he sounded just then. "I'm Duo."

"Hello, Duo." Judging by her voice, the lizard-woman was probably more of a lizard-girl. "My name is Hylaea. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Ah, can I have the butter now?" 

"Huh?" Duo looked down at his hand as though seeing it for the first time. "Oh! Yeah. Here."

Hylaea took the pat and spread some butter on her toast. "I hate dry toast," she confessed. She bit into it. "So, are you new here? I don't think I've seen you around before." 

"Uh, yeah, well. Something called the Bond-"

"Ah. Say no more. More people than I can count have come to the Keep via the Bond." Hylaea pointed to a table across the aisle. "You see that redhead over there? She's a powerful sorceress who was sent here, oh, about seven years ago or so. And that man with the little boy? They were sent here while Albin –the boy- was only about three months old. He just turned four a few weeks ago."

"Do they only come here?" Heero asked. He and the others had stopped eating and were listening in on the conversation.

"Not always," said Hylaea, warming to the subject. She caught her bottom lip between sharp, spiked teeth as she looked about the room. "See that man over there with the ponytail?" She pointed discretely to a tall, dark-haired man in a leather jacket. "He was found first by Black Hood and when they found out he was a trained warrior, he was forced to fight in the ring. He's been here, oh, about eight years now?" Hylaea's voice dropped conspiratorially and the fascinated boys, Relena and Catherine leaned in to hear better. "Rumour has it that he and Lady Ria are stepping out together."

"Ria…Ria…oh!" Quatre snapped his fingers. "Twenty or so? Tallish with red hair?"

Hylaea nodded, her ruby head glinting in the sunlight streaming in from the huge windows. "Mm-hm. She's Lord Walker's oldest sister."

"He's the youngest?" Trowa queried, worrying his eggs, but not really interested in actually eating them. 

"No, no," an emerald lizard-boy squirmed around in his seat to look at them. He appeared to be about the same age as Hylaea, if not a bit older. "He and Lord Darien are twins and Lady Ria, Lady Tama and Lady Misty are younger than them in two-year intervals in that order."

"I could have told them that, Conor," Hylaea chided him.

"But, unless memory fails to serve, my dear, you didn't."

"For lords and ladies, you certainly speak easily about them," Relena commented. Hylaea and Conor laughed.

"The titles are just a formality, really," Conor stuck a huge forkful of scrambled eggs and continued talking, ignoring Hylaea's disgusted look. "They hate being called by them."

Wufei snorted and turned away from the group in his seat._ A lord who won't even use his own title. Huh! Play nobles!_

A sudden silence around the table caused Wufei to look up_. Looks like I might have said that out loud_. He smirked slightly. _Damn._

"Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no," Hylaea said. "Nothing could be farther from the truth. They simply prefer to live as we do."

"A man who does not act according to his station is not a true lord," Wufei sniffed, unaware of just how prissy he sounded. "A man like that should lose his title."

"And a man who acts as though he is above others should also lose his title, along with his head," snarled a deep voice from just behind Wufei. Wufei turned to see the huge man with the leather jacket standing over him. The Chinese boy noticed with a start that the big man's eyes were bloody red. "The measure of a lord is not determined by haughtiness, boy. It's how he is received by his people." The huge man loomed in further, his leather jacket creaking. "And I have it on very good authority Lord Walker is _very_ well received by his people." 

Belle, who had been sitting quietly until then, stood up, taking the large man by his bulky shoulder. "Now, now, Ryu. There's no need to intimidate."

Ryu turned his blood red orbs to the tiny woman standing at his side. "That would be a rather difficult task for one so large as I, my Lady," said he without even cracking so much as a tiny smile. With a curt bow to the ageless psionicist, he turned and walked away.

"Cheerful fellow," Trowa remarked. Duo began to laugh.

Conor chuckled around his own glass of milk. "If you knew Lord Walker, you'd be singing a new tune, my sceptical little friend," he said to Wufei. Wufei snorted, more than a little crushed by his encounter with the immense, red-eyed man. The emerald lizard-boy rolled his eyes and pointed to the enormous chandelier hanging on heavy chains overhead. It was in the shape of a magnificent dragon, fully thirty feet long from tip of snout to tip of tail. From where they sat as insects to a giant, they could all but feel the heat of its fiery breath. Conor watched the group take in every exquisite detail. "D'you see that? Lord Walker made that dragon."

"He made all of _that_?" Catherine gasped. "By himself? How could one man build something so huge?"

Hylaea grinned, a disconcerting sight with such dagger-like teeth. "You misunderstood me, miss. He didn't build it with his own two hands. He _conjured_ it. From nothing."

"Come again?" This from Relena.

"That dragon didn't exist, and then Lord Walker flicked his fingers and, lo and behold! Big ass dragon!" Conor emphasised his sentence with a grand flourish of his fork, which ended up flinging scrambled eggs right in Hylaea's face. Hylaea rounded on him with a sticky bun, bouncing it off his pebbly head. 

"Oooh, man." Duo wearily set his head in his hands. He moaned aloud as the food war went on around him. "Just when I thought things couldn't be worse, they decide to break the laws of physics, too. Nothing could possibly cause this day to suck any more than it does right about now."

"Ah, Duo? Your elbow is in my oatmeal."

There was a pause as Duo's brain registered the somehow fitting irony of the situation. "I don't care," he said finally. "At least the food here is still normal."

"I dunno." Catherine poked at her meat. "I think I head someone say something about bear."

"Aaarggh!"

Belle suddenly appeared from nowhere, taking Duo by the shoulders. "All full? Good." She looked critically at Duo sleeve where the thick overlay of oatmeal was already beginning to dry. "And it was just washed, too," she murmured. "Ah, well. We shall have to hurry. Walker is finally awake and he wishes to see you."

"You didn't call him 'lord'," Wufei pointed out, a bit snappish from his encounter with Mt. Ryu.

"But my dear, why should I?" Gathering the plates, Belle gave him one of her knee-knocking smiles. "He _is_ my nephew, after all." 

******

_More later! Ja!_

L.P.D.


	8. Walker

Hi __

Hi! Sorry it's been a while, but my mom bleached our basement recently (don't ask) and I just managed to get to the computer today for the first time in a while. Enjoy! –Lady PhoenixDagger

*****

The bed was huge. Fully fifteen feet by seventeen, its quilts and blankets required at least eight women to wash them at a time. The canopy was rich, red velvet; metres and metres of it controlled by a long, brocaded cord as thick as a man's wrist, much like the pull-cord of a curtain.

Walker Broman sat in the precise centre of the stuffed monstrosity, studying an ancient book, with the double doors leading directly to the balcony flung wide open to let in some of the fresh morning air. Though Alaryan's Keep was a place he loved and frequently called home, it still got stuffy. Walker was a solid, muscular man. The way he carried himself, even at rest proclaimed him to be a warrior, though his face gave the impression of someone trying to suppress a perpetual grin. With flaming red hair and eyes the colour of newly-sprung daffodils, he would have been handsome -some even went as far as to say absolutely gorgeous- had it not been for the scars lacing his face. One crossed vertically through his right eye, another diagonally across the cheek of the same side and two more formed a crooked 'X' on the other. Very few others had seen the forest of other scars that lined his body, still a bit tender even now after all these years. But these thoughts did not cross Walker's mind at the moment. At the moment, he was just a semi-normal twenty-three-year-old man sitting cross-legged on his bed, studying. 

Or, at least, he was _supposed_ to be studying…

"Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars," he sang along and slapped his thighs to the beat of the music being fed to him via his Discman. Walker's well-muscled frame was clad in a nightshirt which just barely cleared his knees and the light breeze meandering in from the balcony felt good on his bare skin.

"Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter or Mar-"

A soft knock at the door caused Walker to look up and quickly shove his Discman between the bed sheet and the rich, leather-bound covers of "Dragons and their Habits; an Objective Study". 

****

Nice try, dearest. 

Awww, Aunt Belle! Walker chided her. **I'm a big boy for pity's sake! Couldn't I slack off just a little?**

No, Walker, as a matter of fact, you can't. As the Lord of Alaryan's Keep, you are still learning and therefore cannot defer in your studies. A pause. **Don't roll your eyes at me like that, young man. Now put that CD player away or I shall be forced to staple that book to your forehead. **

"I love you too, Auntie!!" Walker shouted at the door. Laughing softly, Belle let herself in, herding the girls and the ex-pilots ahead of her.

"Hi!" Walker said brightly, still sitting cross-legged on the bed. 

__

Mumblemumblehi_mumblemumble._

Tough crowd. Walker crawled off the bed -which took him awhile- and stood facing the group. He thoughtfully stroked his chin. "Huh," he said. "You know, for all the fight you guys put up, you're all a lot smaller than I thought you'd be."

"You must be the fake lord I keep hearing about." Wufei's tone held a definite "screw with me, I dare you" note to it. He stepped up to Walker, his onyx eyes snapping. "What do _you_ know about ruling? You don't even seem to be able to get out of bed."

I had a long night last night, kid." Walker's lemon drop eyes were hard. "But as I understand it, you were too bust shitting yourself to really take notice."

Wufei snapped. "Bastard!" Highly trained leg muscles snapped taut, launching Wufei at the other man. 

No one even saw what happened next, Wufei included. Walker's arms became a confused blur as he exploded into action, catching Wufei and throwing him at his feet and kicking him back up in one smooth, sinuous motion before slamming the Chinese ex-pilot back up against the wall with his feet dangling a full foot above the floor. 

"That wasn't a very good idea, friend." Walker's voice was as calm as if he was chatting about the weather. "Still, you _did_ manage to get a hit in there, somewhere." Walker grinned suddenly. "I think one of my teeth are loose." The young man let go, allowing Wufei to drop lightly to his feet. "I don't think I've ever had anyone do that to me before without my noticing. You're fast, friend. Perhaps we could trade techniques sometime." Giving Wufei a clipped bow, Walker turned back to Belle. "Sorry 'bout that."

With the grace of a queen, she waved the incident away.

"Well!" Walker sat on the edge of his gigantic bed. "Sit down, sit down, take a load off. I don't bite."

The group sat down in a row, fitting easily on the bed's edge. Catherine and Relena were blushing slightly, sitting as far away as they could from the briefly clad young lord.

"Walker, dear?" Belle sighed.

"Hmmm?"

"Your pants, dear."

Looking down, Walker's ears turned bright flaming red. "Ah, yes. Pants. Uhm, please excuse me, won't you?" With that, he bolted away into an adjoining room, Belle's silver laughter chasing after him.

"_Daaaamn._" Duo flopped onto his back on the bed. "Didn't that guy have, like, a giant zombie arm sticking out of his chest last night?"

Belle nodded cheerfully at him.

"Just checking."

Presently, Walker came back wearing a simple pair of black pants topped with a brown sash like the one's the lizard people were wearing in the dining room. He also wore a white shirt that closed with the same complicated laces Relena had had trouble with earlier. She noted sourly to herself that he had them tied almost all the way up to his throat.

"Sorry about that." Walker sat back down on the bed, further into the centre this time. "Anyway, let's get to business. Welcome to Alaryan's Keep. I trust you've met the Bhaarliads?"

"Huh?" There were blank looks all around.

"The lizard people," Walker prompted.

"_Ohhhh…_"

"Yep, that's them. By the way, try not to call them lizard people to their faces in the future. They really loathe that. And it marks you for future 'monkey boy' jokes later on in life. Anyway, the Bond brought you here and as you know it severed itself upon your arrival. I won't sugarcoat it, ladies and gentlemen. Your world is no more and every single person you've ever met in your lifetimes is dead beyond the shadow of a doubt. But there may be a way to bring a few back, though I can promise you nothing." A cold breeze blew through the open balcony, fingering Walker's flaming hair. Before him, Catherine's face was pale as death and Relena had tears streaming down her face, but the boys merely sat, eyes intense, features set in stone. Impressed with their stoicism, Walker stood and went on, pacing now. "Normally I would not be doing this, you know." 

"Lucky them," Duo muttered.

"Indeed," Walker agreed. Duo blushed deeply, not having meant for Walker to hear that remark. "Still, what you witnessed last night is something which even those who I have known since my childhood have not seen, and to have only that in your minds only gives you a tiny portion of the story. Listen to me and try to believe, because everything I'm telling you is the truth. The burden within me is a symbiotic plague bent on killing me implanted by Black Hood, a corporation which you will soon learn more about." Walker cracked his knuckles and sighed. "So now you'll learn of myself and of the other survivors of Black Hood. All of those who come here learn this story, though never so soon." He held his hands out to them, his tawny eyes wide with the thrill of intrigue. "Come with me. Come and let me show you my life."

The seven tentatively stood and touched his hands, all of them noticing the deep scars laced with black lining the tops of Walker's strong hands and wrists. First Relena, then Quatre, then Trowa and then Catherine. With narrowed eyes, Heero touched Walker's scarred hand, followed by a scowling Wufei. 

This left only Duo. He sighed and watched his friends clinging gently to the scarred hands and quickly made his decision. "I don't think so, guys. You're on your own." Crossing his arms, Duo backed slowly away. "No way, uh-uh. I've had enough weird stuff happen to me for one lifetime, thank you very much." 

Belle frowned at him and, very suddenly, Duo found himself walking towards Walker's outstretched hands under _her_ power. Frantically, the braided ex-pilot did the only plausible thing he could think of: he grabbed onto the bedpost and refused to let go, even while his feet seemed to want to go on without him. "I said _no_!" he shouted.

Walker sighed. "We only need to make skin-to-skin contact, Duo. You do realise you're wearing shorts, right? And I'm not immobile, you know," he said and kicked out a naked foot at Duo's bare leg. 

"Awww, _shit_."

And once again, darkness took him.

*****

Trowa opened his emerald eyes to the scene before him. He stood not in Walker Broman's bedroom, but rather in another much smaller room filled almost to capacity with loudly humming machines and people in surgical garb. _Ah, we're in some sort of hospital, _he surmised. Walker stood before him, hands clasped, his scars shining blackly in the gloomily lit room. Behind him the machines continued to hum and beep, but no noise came from the doctors. 

"My brother Darien and I were born here into bondage in late August 1977, as a multimillion dollar project for the genetics company known as Black Hood. Our mother was created for the specific purpose of conceiving us." Walker's voice was low, silky, almost painful. "By about six months of gestation, we were, shall I say, 'forcefully removed' from our mother's womb and put into these incubation tanks to finish growing." Walker moved to reveal a pair of long glass tubes both about a foot in diameter that reached from ceiling to floor, filled with fluid. In the exact centres of the tubes, a tiny baby floated, eyes still tightly sealed, body curled up in the fetal position. Trowa noted with mute horror that thin wires and hoses protruded from all over their bodies. A small digital counter was attached to each tube. One neared the thirty second mark and the other was about a minute behind it. 

"I'm the one on the left." Walker indicated the tube holding the smaller babe. "Darien is the one on the right. He's older than me by about a minute or so. Watch. He's being born."

The group stared in hushed dread as Darien was extracted from his tube, silent and staring, clinically watching his new surroundings with cold green eyes. The hoses and wires were disconnected and he was set down naked on a stark metal table. Through all this, Darien remained noiseless and staring.

"Perfect." One of the myriad of doctors picked up Darien's tiny foot by the heel and released it, letting it drop with a _clunk _to the metal table. Darien made no sound. "Simply perfect," the doctor purred again.

"As you can see, Darien was born without a hitch." Striding over to the other incubation tube, Walker tapped the glass with his knuckle. The babe inside revolved slowly to regard him and, in a move that for some reason made Trowa's stomach lurch, waved slowly at its older self with a tiny, open hand before being extracted from its own artificial womb and placed next to his new brother. "I, however was supposed to be born female. Some of the drugs they pumped into us in vitro reacted with each other and changed my sex almost halfway through the pregnancy. Lo and behold, I was born a boy. Cold and emotionless, but a boy nonetheless."

The disgust the doctor held for this apparent failure was etched clearly on his face as he watched the motionless baby lying on the table. "Take this one to the OR." Immediately a gaunt-faced nurse materialised, picked up baby Walker and waited for any more instructions. The doctor smiled chillingly. "I think I shall call it call it _draco erectus._"

Swinging doors creaked as the nurse took baby Walker from the room.

"I was given a new body that day," mused Walker sadly. "Wings, new feet, fangs, claws, a tail, all of which can be pulled into my body and hidden when needed. They even recoded my DNA. I need to take a whole handful of pills and injections every day to keep my body from rejecting these 'gifts' they gave me, you know. What's left of my health is dependant on a syringe and a handful of red and yellow pills." His voice broke. "All because those bastards took my humanity from me." Carefully he began to touch the ends of his fingers, from which short, sharp metal claws could burst, eager to rend flesh and strike deep into bone. He breathed a short, shuddering sigh. "But I digress. Come." The scene behind him began to blur. "Darien and I are now four years old.

*****

__

That's all for now, but stay tuned! At my current rate I'm averaging about two chapters a week, so this story'll be just shooting along. See you in Chapter Nine!

L.P.D. *//.^*


	9. “I’ll hide no longer.”

Hi __

Hi! I'm off on vacation to the States next week, so I figured I'd leave you all with a super long chapter to chew on while I'm gone. Don't forget to review!! –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

****

Warning!!! This chapter is contains graphic violence done to and by children. If you're a bit on the squeamish side, I'd suggest skimming over the really yukky parts. Reader discretion is advised.

By the way, I don't own Gundam Wing (I do own a couple of action figures, though…) Everything else, however, I all mine!! 

*****

The first thing Duo noticed when his eyes cleared again was the noise. That, and the violently bright neon lights of the packed coliseum around him. He, Walker and the rest of the group were sitting in the stands, eyes glued to the playing field, a stark, sandy pit.

"Welcome to the Ring." Duo jumped nearly a foot into the air as Darien faded into view next to him, sitting back comfortably against the row of bleachers behind him.

"Glad you could make it," Walker murmured. Darien nodded back to his twin, verdant eyes glinting in the harsh light.

"Our childhood years were spent here." Darien's voice was harshly brittle over the noise of the crowds. "We were bred to be prefect. We were the perfect specimens of humanity, born to be the perfect breeding pair for the procreation of a new species of man. There was only one shot and it was fouled up by Walker's fortunate change in sex. So we were trained and changed into fighters. Walker became the _draco erectus_ and I was given the gift of greater speed and strength." He flicked his fingers, making slender, silvery blades, each almost a foot long burst from the second knuckle of each finger. "Not to mention these babies. Our healing processes were sped up dramatically. As we are now, we can completely heal from a gunshot wound at point blank range in about thirty seconds."

"Lord…" Duo's stomach flip-flopped as he turned the words "_draco erectus_" over in his mind. "Upright dragon."

"That's me, alright." Tiny, inch long claws like Darien's own shot from Walker's fingertips. The broken skin around them healed immediately. "My canine teeth were filed and made into retractable fangs and poison sacs were implanted into my face. Even as a young child, I could drop a full-grown steer in full gallop with only my front teeth. Ah." The house lights in the coliseum began to dim. "Looks like the match is about to begin." 

"LADEEZZE AND GENTLEMENNN!!!!" The loudspeaker boomed, sending its echoes over the crowd. "WELCOME TO THE RING!! HAVE WE EVER GOT A DEATHMATCH FOR YOU TONIGHT!! IN THE LEFT PEN, WEIGHING IN AT SIXTY-SEVEN POUNDS, _THE BLACK SHADOW_!!!!"

Darien, at the age of four, stepped into the Ring. Only his hands and eyes were visible, the rest of him being swathed in fine silk, though even below the wrapping, his body looked supple and unnaturally strong. He also looked abnormally big for a four-year old. Duo mentioned this.

"Steroids," the adult Darien offered. "We lived on drug cocktails as much as we did on food, so the steroids were a daily thing." 

"AND IN THE RIGHT PEN, WEIGHING IN AT SEVENTY-NINE POUNDS, _THE RIPPER_!!!!

Four-year-old Walker stepped into the Ring. He was shirtless, clad only in a pair of shredded camo-print pants and he wore no shoes. Languidly, he stretched lie a cat, displaying the pair of leathery, batlike wings that protruded from his back and the long, whiplike tail that cracked and snapped at the base of his spine. His feet were clawed and three-toed, covered in smooth, leathery grey skin. A guttural snarl issued from his lips and amplified for the benefit of the spectators was lost immediately in the roar of the crowd.

"ALLLLL RIGHT FOLKS, THE BETS ARE ALL NOW IN!" The announcer paused for dramatic effect. "_BEGIN!!!!_" 

Metal claws flashed in the artificial sun as the tiny warriors charged, gracefully leaping to the kill. Metal screamed on metal, silk tore and the crowd screamed itself into a blood-fed frenzy. Duo's face and the faces of his companions were locked in rictuses of horror as Darien's claws hit home, tearing bloody lines into Walker's naked chest. The two antagonists backed off. With a sickening sound, the red lines closed and the bleeding ceased. 

"FIRST BLOOD GOES TO THE SHADOW!!!" The announcer crowed, caught up in the bloodlust. The sound of groans and whoops of capitalist joy overtook the arena as money changed hands and the fight resumed.

"When will it end?" Quatre whispered, horrorstruck, his eyes riveted to the blood spattering over the sand of the arena. 

"When one of us dies." Walker's voice was bitter. He spat on the ground by the spectator in front of him, a scientist still in her white lab coat. She didn't move. "They cloned us and made us into expendable playthings. Only one can be truly alive at a time, but they're still relatively easy to create. We've already uncovered and destroyed at least three thousand of them so far." 

Heads whipped back as a screaming roar filled the arena. Young Darien stood as the victor, triumphant and wraithlike, his silks shredded and falling from his body, his tiny hands caked in fresh blood. Walker lay in a heap at his feet, wings torn to shreds, lying in a rapidly spreading pool of his own lifeblood. Darien's face –now free of its silken wrappings- revealed nothing. With very little movement, he tossed something to the ground and walked slowly from the Ring. Squinting, Duo tried to make out what it was from where he sat. Whatever it was, it was tiny and stained brilliant red from the blood on Darien's petite hands. It almost looked like…

"Oh, lord…" Duo clapped his hands over his mouth and fought the urge to retch. The small red object was a child's heart, viciously torn from Walker's chest. It lay there on the sand, small and forlorn.

A sudden strong hand clapped onto Duo shoulder, causing him to whirl around. Before him, Darien's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I know. I know the horror. I remember these fights in my dreams. The hot blood, the feeling of muscle tearing beneath my hand, the sound of the very same bloodthirsty scientists that created us screaming for our deaths just to fulfil a damned bet." Darien spat at the mere mention of his creators, as did Walker. "But the worst part," Darien continued, "was the apathy. I felt these things and I heard the screams, but…I felt…lord, I felt…_nothing_."

Walker put his hand on his brother's shoulder and the scenery blurred and changed to that of a small clearing in a lush forest setting. "We were toys to these mutilators, and they played horrid games with our bodies, thinking up new long, slow, painful ways for us to die." Gently, Walker took the throwing knife from the sheath at Cathy's wrist under her sleeve. Cathy did not protest. "There was one small problem, however…" With this, Walker plunged the slim dagger through his palm. Relena screamed, Trowa winced and Quatre's face turned a pallid shade of grey, "…we heal too quickly. Also, pain holds very little sway on us. Outwardly, anyway." Calmly, Walker gripped the hilt of the knife and carefully slid it from the wound. He held up the bleeding hand.

"Watch."

Duo desperately wanted to look away, but he could not help but watch in wonder as the tear in Walker's hand was bridged by tiny red muscle fibre after tiny red muscle fibre. The bleeding staunched its flow abruptly and the wound quickly closed up behind itself. The whole process took less than thirty seconds.

"Son of a bitch…" Wufei breathed. "Son of a bitch…"

"Indeed," Darien said, smiling slightly. "One of Black Hood's little 'death romps' took us somewhere close to this very place, not more than a kilometre from where we now live. The cause of death was to be exposure to the elements. We were stripped to the skin and left to freeze in an exceptionally cruel winter storm. Our dad found us and took us home with him." Darien's slight smile widened into a full grin and was joined by Walker's as they remembered. "He got quite a scare when Walker suddenly reverted to _draco_ form in his arms and tried to fly away, but after serving in Alaryan's Keep for so many years, it didn't get to him so much that he was willing to let Walker go so easily. Ria and Tama were four and two and our mom was just about to learn that she was pregnant with Misty at the time. We were six years old. Dulcet was already living in the Keep, and with his help, we became fully functioning members of society. Walker was found to be an incredibly powerful mage and I was taught the ways of controlling the elements."

"So your lives were made better?" Relena asked hopefully. "You were finally happy?"

"For a time," Darien said slowly. Beside him, Walker sighed and slowly began to fade away. Duo made to grab him, but Quatre stayed his hand.

"Don't." Quatre's eyes were glazed with the effort of reading the now-slight shade of Walker's form. "He hates this memory. The whole place reeks of his pain."

Duo shot him a Look and glanced back, but by this time Walker's form was nothing but a silvery outline melting slowly into the trees, dissolving even as Duo watched. 

"We were nine years old when this next event began. The Bhaarliads still call this day the 'Day of Agony'." Darien sat on a nearby stump, head in his hands, face grave. "Black Hood wanted us dead- they still do. We know their secrets: their bases, their plans, their methods, their security codes. Even now they raid the Keep, looking for us and others we've rescued from 'modification'. But I digress. Watch. The memory is beginning."

Heero cocked his head. "Children," he stated. "Laughing."

Nodding, Darien's face remained sober. "Walker and a little Bhaarliad girl named Aria. She was our best friend since we came to the Keep as children. Watch. Here they come."

"C'mon Ari!" a thin, high voice chimed from the trees, coming closer and resulting in a dirty-faced nine-year-old Walker crashing through the underbrush. "Catch me if you can!"

An albino Bhaarliad girl in a lavender dress ran after him, her pebbly diamond skin sparkling in the sun. "No fair! You run too fast!" 

"Ah, well." Walker flopped onto the ground by Cathy's feet, staring up at the sky. "I won anyway."

Aria flopped on the ground next to him. "Did not!"

"Did too!" Walker countered.

"Not!"

"Too!"

"Notnotnotnotnotnotnotnot!!"

"Tootootootootootootootoo!!"

"Notno-" Aria suddenly sat up. "You hear something?"

Walker frowned and he, too, sat up. "Feet. Big feet, but not as big as my dad's. Men's feet." He sniffed the air. Suddenly his eyes widened in shock. "Black Hood men! "Run!!"

Without a word, Aria sprang to her feet like a startled doe and bolted.

Straight into the stinking embrace of a huge, burly man. 

"Lemme go!" Aria screamed, kicking at him.

The Black Hood's bounty hunter grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellowed teeth. "Now why would I be doing a silly thing like that?" he rasped.

"Let her go!" Walker shouted and was grabbing in mid-spring by another, larger man hoisting him from the wrists. "Aria!! You jerks let her go!" he shouted again. Tiny claws sprung from Walker's fingertips, but he couldn't reach the huge man holding him. 

The brute holding Aria grinned wider. "You got it, brat," he spat. He pulled back his hand. 

Surprisingly, it was Heero who cried out as the brute's hunting knife tore across Aria's crystal throat. The girl gasped, but staunchly refused to cry out as she dropped to her knees and died.

"There," the first man said, carefully licking the blood from his knife. "I let her go, just like you said."

"BASTARD!!" Walker's eyes burned hellfire and his fangs began to lengthen. Tiny sparks of magic burst from his fingers. "I'LL KILL YOU ALL!!!"

"Oh, no, no, no, darlin'," the man holding Walker drawled. He held the child up as the free-handed man snapped a metal collar around Walker's neck, cutting him of from his magic and strength. "_We're_ gonna kill _you_. Slowly and painfully."

The other man pulled a thin dagger from his sleeve and waved before the helpless boy's face. "Remember this, boy? The only chemical known to mar that pretty skin of yours. It's called Compound White, but some people know it as-"

"The plague," Walker whimpered, barely able to keep his head up from the draining effects of the collar. 

"It's been a pleasure working with you." The man holding Walker let him drop. He whipped out his own knife and smiled a chilling smile. "Enjoy."

And with that, the knife fell.

*****

"No more! _Please_, no more!" Relena rasped. The scene faded away, but not before the first of many bloody lines was torn into Walker's back. 

"It went on like that for hours," Darien said, putting an arm around the sobbing girl's shoulders. "Walker's body is now covered in scars, stained black with Compound White, or the plague. It's the symbiot that came from his chest the night you came." His voice was hollow. "It comes to light in the form of such attacks. Last night was one of the worst."

The scene cleared again, revealing an elementary school playground. Children ran about in aimless herds, laughing and shouting to one another. Next to him, Duo saw Heero's body stiffen as a young girl shot by, screaming a nonsense song at the top of her lungs. 

A small figure sat alone in the shade against the outer wall of the school, his hands curled around a paperback novel. A wide radius of empty space surrounded him. Children running toward him even went as far as to swerve to avoid venturing into the sphere to silence. The boy himself was compact. Blackened scars laced his hands, but his face was hidden beneath the hood of his sweatshirt.

"That's Walker, isn't it?" Cathy said, watching him slowly turn the page. "He looks so sad."

"Mmm." With a quick stride, Darien avoided a badly thrown tennis ball. "We were thirteen, in out last year at St. Joseph's Elementary School. After the Day of Agony, Walker became very quiet and fearful, even a bit paranoid. He practised with the sword day and night until he became a master at the age of twelve, keeping at least seven daggers on his person at a time. Even at rest he was –and still is- deadlier than a springing tiger. But here…" Darien pointed at a knot of boys laughing and sniggering at Walker's almost motionless form. "Here it didn't matter. Children take perverse delight in mocking the outcast and Walker was the perfect candidate.

"Hey, Shit!" One of the boys was hollering at Walker. "Shit!"

"They didn't even bother to learn his name," Darien snarled.

Walker's head tilted slightly up, but he remained silent and his face stayed buried deep in shadow. Carefully he marked his page and closed his book."

"Why don't you answer me when I'm talking to you, Shit?" the boy sniffed in disdain, loudly enough for all his friends assembled nearby to hear. "Oh, yeah. It's 'cause you don't have a _tongue_!"

Darien's face went stiff. "Those men cut out Walker's tongue. It took him close to a year to grow it back again and even after, it took Walker a long time to bring himself to talk again."

"What happened to the men?" Trowa queried softly. 

"The collar failed." The set of Darien's handsome face finished the rest of the thought in everyone's minds. There probably hadn't been enough of the two men to bury.

A piece of paper fluttered to the asphalt ground by Walker's sneakered feet. "I'm having a pool party next Saturday. I invited your brother and my mom's making me invite you." The kid stepped closer. Quickly, Walker dropped his head. "But listen up. You can't touch the guests, you can't share your food and you can't go into the water. You'll contaminate it. No one wants you there, so just fade into the background like usual and no one gets hurt. Got that?"

A nod.

"Good." And with that, the kid turned on his heel and stalked back to his knot of hysterically laughing friends, indignant that he had to venture into Walker's sphere of personal space. 

As soon as the kid was out of sight, Walker swooped down on the invitation, snatching it from the ground and staring at it as if afraid it would suddenly grow wings and fly away. Duo felt his heart wrench as the child Walker wiped a tear from his eye with a mangled hand and looked up at the sky as if to say "thank you".

The scene faded again and changed. The happy shouts were still present, but now they were accompanied by splashing and the dull _clunk_ of food hitting plastic plates. Darien was there in green trunks and a skin tight white T-shirt, chatting with a group of starry-eyed girls. Looking at the current Darien, Duo noticed he at least had the decency to blush. Even then he was drop-dead gorgeous, with slender waist and abs one could grate cheese on. Walker was there as well, but in his own quiet way, sitting cross-legged on a deck chair with a book in his hands and a small plate of food at his feet. He still wore the hooded sweatshirt and the long pants, even though the weather was unseasonably warm. 

The group watched as Darien would periodically disentangle himself from his fan club and wander over to Walker, who would look up from his book. They would sit in silence for a while, simply looking at each other. ("Walker and I share a mental link," Darien had explained the first time this happened. "Kind of a prenatal ESP, if you will. We can 'talk' to each other and send visual images back and forth. Consider it email of the mind.") Then Darien would take Walker's plate and refill it from the platter across the pool deck, for the kid had said Walker wasn't allowed to touch any food other than his own. When this was done, Darien would bring it back and then resume being admired.

"Quite the heartthrob, weren't you?" Cathy quipped with a sly smirk on her face.

Darien's answering smirk was just as sly, if not more so. "Still am." He pointed to Walker. "He was perfectly content to sit and read, not bugging any one, not even making a sound. But the kids still saw his being here as a threat and they wanted to make him pay. Keep you eye on the kid in the red trunks." Darien sniffed. "He thinks he'll be a hero."

Walker's deckchair was no more than three feet away from the poolside. The kid in red crept up on Walker with an evil smile, already seeming to revel in the popularity he would reap for this attack against the outcast. Crouching under the deckchair, he heaved up suddenly, dumping Walker into the water. Immediately a dozen other boys leapt on him, holding the startled boy down, tearing off his sweatshirt and holding him underwater. 

Darien, too absorbed with his little girlfriends, did not even notice. 

Frantically, Walker began to thrash, sending wave after wave over the side of the pool. Gurgling, strangled cries barely came above the gleeful shouts of children as Walker's lungs slowly began to fill with water.

Unexpectedly, the crowd of boys drowning Walker began to thin out. Darien had waded in and was throwing boys left and right, hardly caring if they bounced off the hard concrete pool deck. Swearing, he hauled Walker's limp body from the water onto the ground by the food table, pounding on his exposed back, knocking water from his lungs. Vomiting, Walker came to, gasping for precious air. 

A cool breeze blew then, ruffling the hair of the ring of children gathered around Walker and Darien. It also cooled the water dripping from Walker's bare back and running in rivulets from the ridges of blackened scar tissue. Noticing he was now naked of his protection, Walker froze under the children's wide-eyed gazes.

One of the girls, a wisp of a thing in a pink two-piece bathing suit, pointed to Walker's mangled back, a triumphant grin on her face. "Freak!" she shrilled. "Black Hood freak!"

The other children, made brave by this girl's first move began to join in, pointing and chanting. 

"Freak! Freak! Shit's a Black Hood freak!"

Another girl screamed with laughter, pointing at the boy she had been mooning over not more than a moment ago. "Look at his back! Darien's a freak, too!"

Indeed, Darien's white T-shirt had been soaked through, revealing his muscular back and shoulders. Tattooed across his shoulder blades was a barcode. 

"Clone identification purposes," the current Darien murmured. "Walker had one too, but the plague broke down the ink, so it's not visible anymore."

Before them, the kids were still taunting, now having Darien as fresh meat as well. "Freaks! Freaks! Black Hood frea-"

"Enough." Walker's voice, though rusty from years of misuse, silence the crowd. He stood and turned, revealing his ruined face to those before him. His back below the shoulder blades greyed and pushed out, extending into leathery wings and his thick grey tail pushed out from his spine. Feet more suitable for handling the excess weight morphed from Walker's human feet and gripped into the concrete, sending networks of cracks through it. The other children stared in awestruck horror as Walker stood tall, dwarfing those who stood around him with his very presence. 

"I am Walker Broman."

The water in the pool began to ripple. More cracks formed in the cement at Walker's feet.

"Not 'Shit'. Not 'Freak'." 

The cracks became larger. Tiny waved began to grow in the pool. Duo noticed the sky becoming subtly darker by the second. 

"I am the Lord of Alaryan's Keep." 

Thunder rumbled in the distance. The tiny waves gave birth to bigger waves which lapped at the edges of the pool. Tiny sparks danced on Walker's fingertip and off people's hair. The wind picked up as Walker clenched his fists. Rain began to fall, icy bullet of it that stung to the touch causing the children to scream and run for cover. Lightning flared, cracking into a nearby tree and sending it into a shower of splinters. The wind howled, picking up deckchairs and tables and flinging them about like children's toys. Miniature tidal waves crashed over the cement of the pool deck and the grass beyond, soaking everyone even more, save for Walker. The water simply seemed to part around him.

Walker's yellow eyes suddenly shut and quicker than it had begun, the tumult ended. The sky cleared, the wind died down, the rain stopped.

"I am Walker Broman, Lord of Alaryan's Keep, mage and warrior," whispered Walker, his fiery hair plastered to his face. "I'll hide no longer."

*****

__

**pant, pant** Fingers…so…sore…

See you after I get back!

Ja!

--L.P.D. *//.^* 


	10. The Tour

Hi __

Hi! Just got back from my trip to the United States! Daaamn, you people have a lot_ more anime available than we do up here in Canada! Normally I have to drive like forty-five minutes to a larger city to hopefully find any videos and manga is basically like the impossible dream. While in the States, I picked up the Samurai X movie and something like six mangas. _

So I lent them to neekabe.

Now she won't give them back. ;p (Hint, hint, kabe-chan!) 

Anyhoo, this is what I did when I got home!

Enjoy! –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

*****

Heero and the others opened their eyes. They were back on Walker's bed, cross-legged, sitting in a circle. The board stiffness in all their joints was nothing short of completely horrendous. In true Perfect Soldier fashion, Heero simply ignored it. Wearily, Walker and Darien rubbed their eyes and sighed, twisting around to crack their aching lower backs. Everything was done in perfect unintentional unison. They even yawned together.

__

Twins, thought Heero disinterestedly. He glanced out the window at the September scene outside. The sun was high up in the sky. Noon. So they had been on memory lane for three hours, then. 

"I'd say that's enough sharing for today," Walker commented, cracking his stiffened wrists. "You can return to me to see more if you wish, but for now, I think that'll be enough."

Relena, indulging in a ladylike stretch, yawned. "What do we do now?"

"Dunno." Darien yawned back at her. "Take a look around? See the Keep? Meet and greet?" 

"Sounds cool." Duo grinned lazily. "Meet up some of the locals, grab a bite to eat, see the local countryside… Hey, maybe Heero and I could pick up some new 'female friends' while we're at it; eh, Heero?"

Heero grunted and resisted the urge to throttle him.

Cathy grinned. "Like the Great Shinigami could actually bake himself a date."

"Shut up."

__

Pop. Walker cracked his neck and stood, sauntering easily off the bed and hopping to the floor. "We have several libraries, weapons rooms and a small tavern outside if you get hungry. Feel free to roam about, but don't leave the outer gates. Black Hood raided us recently, so it's still a bad idea to venture away from the Keep." He frowned. "Geez, I sound like a tourist guidebook, don't I?"

"Fine by me." Heero came off the bed, showing to outward signs of stiffness. Ignore it and it will eventually go away, that was the idea. If only it applied to Duo… "Where's the closest weapons room?"

"There are maps posted around," Quatre chirped. "I saw one on the way here."

"Correct," Belle smiled at them from her chair by the unlit fireplace. "Go where you will, but please meet me here at five o'clock. You are to live with my husband and I and I don't want to have to hunt you all down."

Trowa's hand clapped over Wufei's mouth before the Solitary Dragon could let go a stream of cursing. "Good enough for us," the Silencer said quickly. He nodded to the others. "Shall we go?"

The struggling Wufei was dragged by the others from the room by his ankles, kicking and screaming against Trowa's hand. 

Belle pretended not to notice.

*****

"Ahhhh…" Misty sighed. She was sitting against the bole of a massive oak tree by Mandreg's tavern, which was quiet as a tomb, a usual arrangement for a little after midday. Still, as soon as night fell, she knew that the lanterns would be lit and wine, song and dance would soon rule the place. 

__

The day just gets better and better. Misty grinned happily and put her hands behind her coppery-haired head._ I finally get my flute fixed, the weather is absolutely wonderful and that dork with the braid hasn't come up to but me all d-_

"Hi!"

__

If I can't see him, he's not there. Misty scrunched her eyes shut._ He is_ not _there._

"Waaakie, wakie!" Nudge, nudge on Misty's shoulder. "Waaaaakie, wakie!" Nudge, nudge.

Irritable green eyes popped open. "Stop that!"

"Hi!" The braided boy stuck out a hand. "I'm Duo. Duo Maxwell. I might run and hide but I never tell a lie. That's me in a nutshell. Duo Maxwell."

Misty looked at the hand, but didn't shake it. "What the hell kind of fruitcake are you?"

Duo snorted and plunked down next to Misty, accidentally sitting on her hand. "Geez, you try to be nice to a pretty lady and what does it get you? The cold shoulder! Talk about hostile."

__

Damn. He's right. Misty stuck out her right hand. "Misty Broman. Bard."

"Duo Maxwell. Babe magnet." Duo stuck out his own hand, wondering at this girl's choice of clothing. She wore leather breeches and a white cotton shirt with colourful embroidery and a leather vest. Her feet were encased it knee-high doeskin boots and from where he stood, Duo could just make out the outlines of some sort of slender sheath inside each boot. A small dagger rested easily on her hip. _Well, well, if it isn't merry old Robin Hood_, Duo grinned to himself. 

They shook hands.

"So whatcha doing?" Duo asked, stretching out to bask in the early fall sunshine. He grinned lazily at his new companion, breathing in the warm air duskily fragrant with the scent of distant wood smoke.

"I'm just sitting," Misty said. "They don't need anyone to help in the fields just yet, so it's just me sitting here doing nothing."

"Oh, okay." Duo risked a glance around. The ground around him was hard-packed dirt with a few scrabbly little tufts of grass scattered here and there. There were no fields to be seen. He tried another tack. "Sooo…what's a bard?"

Misty grinned and poked herself in the chest. "This is. A bard is someone who uses music to weave magical spells. Not to mention a mean rendition of _Carmina Burana_."

"Yeah?" Duo shifted himself off a particularly bumpy root. "Prove it. Sing me something."

"What? Now?" Misty blinked at this forward stranger. Did he not know it was bad etiquette to simply come out and ask a bard to belt out a tune? "It's rude just to ask me to sing at you for no reason, you know."

"I have a reason," Duo said brightly. "I want to hear your voice!"

Misty sighed. _I can't believe I'm doing this,_ she moaned inwardly. "Fine. But only because I ran you into that wall yesterday."

"You didn't-"

"Shh! You want to hear me sing or not?" She sat back, satisfied. If this guy could be so forward with her, she could be just as forward back.

The Great Shinigami leaned back against the bole of the tree and scowled deeply at the tiny bard next to him. The effect was that of a very large, disappointed three-year-old. Misty suppressed the urge to laugh. "Yeah," he conceded at length. "But now you have to use magic, too. Make something fly or something."

"What?! Oohhh, you little rat! Fine." Misty cleared her throat and began, her voice rising in a clear soprano:

__

Are you going to Scarborough fair?

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.

Remember me to one who lives there

He was once a true love of mine. 

"That was pretty," Duo grinned. 

"I'm not done!"

"Sorry, sorry."

__

Tell him to make me a cambric shirt,

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.

Without no seams, nor needle work,

Then he'll be a true love of mine.

"Nice." Duo interrupted again, this time setting Misty's teeth on edge. "But I'm not seeing anything flying."

"Shut your eyes," instructed Misty.

"Why?"

"Because the song ends here if you don't."

Obediently, Duo shut his eyes. Misty smirked at him and added another soprano voice to hers and the swell of an unseen piano to compliment them both.

__

Tell him to find me an acre of land,

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.

Between salt water and the sea strand

Then he'll be a true love of mine.

Duo's grin nearly took in his ears "Cool! Who's that other person singing with you?" 

"What other person?" Misty said smugly. "I only see me."

"Oh…"

__

Tell him to reap it with a sickle of leather,

Duo's widely grinning face turned to one of puzzlement as he suddenly felt himself growing lighter.

__

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.

Duo suddenly felt _a lot_ lighter. In fact he didn't seem to have his full weight on the ground. Something in his head clicked as he felt his bottom begin to leave the cool ground beneath the massive oak tree. His eyes popped open. "Hey, hey, whoa, _waitaminute_!!"

Misty only sang louder, a saucy grin touching her elfin features. Duo was about a foot above her and still rising.

And gather it all in a bunch of heather,

Then he'll be a true love of mine.

"Hey!!!!!! Let me _down_!!!!!" screamed Duo. He stopped rising at about six feet and simply floated in place, looking indignantly down at the top of Misty's coppery head.

She sighed and relaxed again against the bole of her tree. "Now _why _would I go and do a silly thing like that after working so hard to get you up there in the first place? I think you'll just have to get used to being six feet up. It won't be too difficult once the initial thrill wears off." She shrugged and ran her fingers through her chin-length tresses. "Who knows? You might even get to like it up there."

"Put me down!" Duo hollered again, thrashing like a drowning man.

"You wanted me to make something fly, so I did." Grinning, the bard stood and regarded her prisoner, tiny hands on tiny hips. "Can I help it if you weren't specific?" There came a rather unladylike grunt as Misty quickly scaled the tree and arranged herself on a thick branch above Duo's head. "I'm not the bad guy in this matter, you know."

"What do you want?" Duo cried, feeling his breakfast rise. Flying in a Gundam was one thing. Flying by himself was another -significantly more nauseating- thing altogether. 

Misty lounged lazily against her branch above Duo's head. "Well… as soon as you get your hands on some coin, maybe you could treat me to lunch at Mandreg's tavern over there." She pointed to the place.

"Fine! Just let me down!" A pause. "_Slowly_!!"

Misty grinned at him and began to hum a slow, calming tune. Gradually, Duo began to sink back down to earth and finally touched the ground. Immediately, he fell flat on his face and began slathering the ground with kisses. "_Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou_!!"

"No prob." Misty swung down from her perch and dropped lightly in front of the still-prostrated Duo. "You doing anything right now?"

"Not until five, no," Duo said, sitting up and spitting dirt.

A sudden tiny, pink blush crept up Misty's face. "We-ell, I figured that since you're new here, I could give you the fifty cent tour of the Keep. I promise I won't do anything _too_ evil to you." The blush was replaced by a wide grin. "Unless you deserve it, of course."

__

Heaven help me. Ah, well. At least she's cute. "Okay," Duo sighed. "Lead on."

"Cool!" Misty's grin grew even wider. "Ahhh…where to begin? I guess the beginning is the best place, no?" She spread her arms out wide. "This, my new braided friend, is the Courtyard. What's so funny?"

"I didn't know it was possible to pronounce a capital 'C'."

"A_hem_! The _C_ourtyard is kinda like a tiny village marketplace. We do most of our buying and trading here, though just about everyone lives inside the Keep itself. The tavern is over there, the forge, bakery and dry goods store is over there and the stables are that way." Nodding, Duo noted the rich, earthy smell of horses wafting on the wind, mixed with the short, staccato sound of hammer striking anvil. "And the church is around the side of the Keep over there." They walked around the huge wall of the Keep to come upon a tiny chapel surrounded by a low white picket fence. "Don't be fooled by the size," Misty cautioned. "The place is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, if you know what I mean. On the inside, it's probably about the size of a basilica or something like that. Father Coine is the priest here. A Bhaarliad man. He's very sweet."

"Yeah." Duo made a hasty mental note to come back to this place later on. The church was meticulously taken care of. The stained glass windows shone like jewels in the sun and the tall wooden doors gleamed, true testament to someone's loving hand. Even the stone itself looked like it had been scrubbed within an inch of its life. The faint sounds of singing came from within.

"Children's choir practice," Misty explained and caught Duo's hand, dragging him inside the Keep. "Come on!" she grinned. "There's still a lot more to see!"

*****

Wufei flipped the dagger over in his hand, studying its craftsmanship. _Good balance. Well made._ He sighted down the blade._ Straight and true. Truly a weapon worthy of a warrior._ He set it down on the rack and selected a Roman style short sword for inspection.

"And this is the armoury," a voice said from far off. Wufei cringed. A girl. Sounded like she was as excitable as Maxwell. _Wonderful._

"We usually keep our own weapons, but any old ones or things we keep in reserve stay here." The voice was now a lot closer. Wufei growled to himself and put the sword back on the rack –which was another piece of masterful work, by the way.

"What kinds of weapons?" Wufei's face fell further. _Maxwell. Lovely._ They were rounding the corner. 

"Oh, anything. Swords of all makes, dirks, studded whips, siege engines, Japanese weapons, African weapons, Indian weapons. Anything, really."

"Cool." They appeared around the corner. "Oh, hey, Wu-man."

"Don't call me Wu-man," Wufei recited, more out of habit than anything else. He turned to the girl, noting that she was even shorter than he was, only barely reaching to his shoulder. "Have you any Chinese weaponry here?"

Misty nodded. "Yep. Look all you like, but be sure not to touch the black-bladed sword with the gold tassels. It's the Black Dragon, my brother Darien's sword and he hates it when people play with it." She pointed. "Just past the catapult and hang a sharp right."

Wufei bowed curtly to her and departed, heels clicking smartly against the stone floor.

Selecting the dagger from the sheath at her waist, Misty began to flip it expertly into the air from one hand to the other. "Friendly guy."

"You don't know the half of it." Duo's eyes were riveted to the gleaming steel flipping in Misty's hands. "You should see him at parties."

The redhead glanced fleetingly at Wufei's retreating back. "He can party?"

"Only if we drag him," laughed Duo. Quick as a cat, he snatched Misty's flying dagger in mid toss and began flicking it into the air himself. "He usually just stands there, arms folded, scowling at all the other guests. Occasionally he even socialises."

"How's that?" Misty grabbed her dagger from him in mid spin and began again to flip it into the air. 

"You know, regular Wu-man behaviour:" Duo made his voice harsh and mean, a parody of Wufei's own smooth diction. 'Dancing is for weaklings!' and 'dammit, quit winking at me, woman! Is there something wrong with your eyes?!' and the inevitable 'bring it _on_, weakling!'"

"Usually followed by mortal combat?"

"Yuh huh." He made another grab at the knife, but this time Misty was too quick, slipping it into her belt. She glanced at her watch. "It's getting close to five. I'll show you to the music hall next."

*****

The final bars of "The Rose" hung beautiful and shivering in the air a moment before dissolving into silence. Trowa lowered the flute from his lips and slowly began to take it apart to clean it. Behind him, he could hear Quatre testing out the E string of a violin nearby.

"This is my absolute favourite room." Trowa looked up to see Misty and Duo standing in the doorway. "We're all very musical here at the Keep. Even my big brothers play instruments."

"What do they play?" Quatre asked politely, his arms all but hugging the violin in a familiar embrace. 

"Well, Darien plays the piano and watching his hands is like seeing a pair of insane hummingbirds on speed running up and down the keyboard. And Walker plays the violin like he was born with it in his hands, like you do." Misty seemed to burst with pride while she said this. "It's Quatre, right?"

The blond boy nodded, his sweet eyes sparkling in light streaming in from the huge bay windows of the music hall.

"Flip that violin over." The tiny bard's lips were pursed. "I want to check something out."

"What?"

"Just turn it over." Misty's eyes now sparkled with the pleasure of secrecy.

Carefully, so as not to put the strings out of tune, Quatre turned the violin, back facing out. Against the dark cherry stain was a small rune chalked in white. Misty grinned.

"I knew it! A spare. If you rub off the chalk mark, you can keep the violin. It's all played in and everything. That is, if you want it." She turned to Trowa. "Same to you…Trowa, is it? Find a spare flute and it's yours. The chalk should be somewhere on the case."

"Oh, thank you!" Quatre's aquamarine orbs were huge as he hugged his new prize. "You're so kind!"

Trowa simply smiled.

Tired of just watching, Duo flipped the dagger from Misty's belt. "C'mere. I can carve your name in that fiddle for you." He tapped his fingertip carefully on the point. "Should be sharp enough for the job."

Looking up, however, Duo's brilliant idea quickly rolled over and died. Th other three were staring at him with looks of pure horror.

"Are you _quite_ insane?" Misty inquired witheringly. "A good musician can always identify his own instrument."

"You could even ruin the sound!" Quatre looked petrified, backing away with his arms curled tightly around his new violin. 

Trowa simply looked at Duo like he had proposed putting the dagger to a litter of helpless kittens.

Duo smiled uneasily and handed the dagger back. "Ah, never mind," he said quickly.

Misty's face flashed again into a quick grin. "Let's go to the stables now. It's nearly five." She sauntered to the door, Duo in tow. "Besides," she continued, "it takes a bit more work to insult a horse."

*****

"He's huge!" Duo stared up at the enormous grey hind quarters of a shire horse. "How do you ride something that big?"

"He's a workhorse, silly." Misty affectionately patted the fuzzy rump. "We don't normally ride them."

"Oh." Violet eyes scanned over the muscular rump and hind legs. "Good."

"He's a good boy, too." Misty's tiny hand roved over the beast's back, scratching hard. "Aren't you, Sunny?"

"Sunny!? A horse the size of a house and you call him Sunny!?"

"Keep your voice down. You'll spook the other horses." Heero's muted voice floated in from a stall a short distance away. He sniffed. "Baka."

"Huh. A bit high and mighty now, aren't we?" Duo sniffed back. "What if I decided to yell right here and now?" 

Misty's head appeared from inside another stall. "You'd probably end up going through life with a giant horseshoe-print stamped on your forehead."

"Oh."

With a grunt, Misty pulled herself over the low wall of the stall. "We have all sorts of horses here. Work horses, ponies, cart horses, war horses, gentle old nags to train new riders with." She jerked her thumb in the direction of a huge black head busily excavating the contents of a nosebag. "That stallion there is Walker's war horse."

Heero meandered over to the huge black monster. "Has he a name?" He reached out a hand.

"Don't! He'll tear you hand o-" The huge horse whickered and let his cheek be stroked by the skinny young man. Misty shrugged and sighed. _Strange boys._ "His name is Arid."

"Mmm. Would I be able to ride here?" Heero's hand moved to behind Arid's ear.

Misty nodded, "Of course. If you help out in the stables, you can ride. That's the rule. You can, too, Duo."

Duo, his widened eyes showing the whites all around stared up at the huge rump of Sunny the shire. "Uhm, no thanks. I think I'll stick to walking."

__

Beep, beep!

Misty glanced at her watch. "Five on the dot. Time to go."

*****

The five boys and two girls met balk in Walker's apartments at 5:15. Belle was there at five precisely, of course, sitting with that damnable smile on her face. Walker was nowhere to be seen. She was not alone, however. With her were an old man and a girl no older than Relena or any of the boys. The old man wore long, plain grey robe and had his long white hair clubbed back into a tight ponytail. His beard, however, tumbled freely down his front. He watched with merry brown eyes as the group made itself comfortable in the room. Presently, the old man put an arm around Belle's waist. She looked up at him briefly and –still smiling- then back at the group before her. 

"Did you enjoy yourselves?" she asked.

__

Mumblemumbleyes_mumblemumble._

"Good." The smile never faltered. "This gentleman by my side here is my husband Gil Ichara." The psionicist paused a moment to listen to words only she could hear. "No, dear, it's not cradle robbing. I'm only a five centuries older than he. Not that much in the grand scheme of things, really."

Cathy gawked at her. Belle's smile turned briefly into a smirk. "We magical types have a longer shelf life than most. We can last for centuries."

Gil chuckled softly into his wife's chestnut hair. "We may, though it tends to be the women who do it gracefully."

The other girl laughed silently, her exquisitely shaped shoulders shaking. Looking at her, Trowa found himself drawing in every little detail. She was slightly smaller than he, with a body that boasted a woman's figure that made even Wufei sit up and take notice. Strength radiated from every pore. She wore plain –and thankfully _modern_- clothing which covered her almost completely, leaving only her head, hands and a small part of her throat bare. Her long blonde hair was braided and coiled into a thick bun at the nape of her swan's neck. Her most striking feature, however, was a wide, black cloth band she wore across her eyes.

__

She's blind. Trowa licked his lips. Since when did they get so dry? Belle was still talking.

"-and this is our ward Kari." She put a loving arm around the blonde girl's slender waist. Kari's full lips curved into a small smile. In seeing this, Trowa's heart almost stopped in mid-beat.

A snort to his left tore Trowa's attention from Kari. Wufei was leaning against the bedpost, arms folded in his usual defiant fashion. "So we are to live with you then? Fine. But what's to stop me from leaving whenever I want?"

"Good sense, I should hope," Gil quipped. "It's not like you're a prisoner."

Satisfied with this answer, Wufei nodded, his eyes closed.

"However…"

The almond eyes opened.

"However, you know nothing of this place outside Alaryan's Keep." Gil sat on the bed, his long, white beard brushing at his stomach. "It would be much better to actually know the battlefield before you go charging out there." A grin played over the old man's lined face. "Besides, I had to drag seven bloody beds into the house with three other old bags. If I had to listen to two hours of 'why don't we just levitate it?' and "it has legs, dammit, so just make it walk!' then the least you could do is have the courtesy to sleep in the damn things once." 

Quatre murmured something polite along the lines of "We will." The others didn't bother.

Duo grinned back Gil. "When were you born?" 

Cathy smacked him in the back of the head. "Owwww! What!?" he whined.

"It's okay, it's okay," Gil chuckled. "Hmm, I'd have to say…oh, 1500 or so. I'm a little over five hundred."

Heero did some quick mental math. He turned to Belle. "You told me that this is the year 2001. That makes you over a thousand years old."

Kari's smile widened as her surrogate mother nodded.

__

Pretty, Trowa mused. 

"Come. We will go home." Belle smiled again that small smile and left the room.

The group followed after her, wondering.

*****

__

More to follow! Keep reading! And don't forget to review!!

Ja! –L.P.D


	11. The Ichara Home

Hiya __

Hiya! Me again! Big thanks to those who wished me bon voyage on my recent trip and a big welcome home after. I meant to say thanks before, but I forgot. And thanks to the person who has me on authoralert. If you could please contact me so I could actually thank you I'd really like that. Not much more to say, so I'll cut it short here. –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

*****

The Ichara house was a large one buried deep in the miles of dense woods surrounding the outer walls of the Keep. Four rooms were already set up for the girls and the ex-pilots, the clothing they had slept in the night before freshly washed, ironed and waiting to be climbed into. But first the rooms had to be divided up. Relena and Cathy were already bunking with Kari in her room, which was the largest. This left the boys to decide who slept where and with whom. After a coin toss, another coin toss, a large amount of yelling, a few games of twenty-one and a final pickup game of Scrabble, Heero was stuck as Duo's roommate. Trowa and Quatre shared the room next to them and Wufei got the smaller room between theirs and the girls' all to himself. Then came the lugging of about seventeen tonnes of bed linens and blankets and pillows from the linen closet, which, of course, happened to be in an area of the house that was the farthest possible distance away from the bedrooms. So they all dragged the bundles upstairs. Belle, of course, pulled the trump card of cook's duties and managed to avoid having to join in.

Later on, after a fair amount of tugging, straightening, smoothing and a little bit of "Stop bouncing on my bed, Duo", came dinner. Duo, of course, made the small mistake of asking for a glass of milk to wash down his meat, inadvertently discovering that Belle and Gil were Jewish, not to mention kosher. Relena had sat staring at her food, occasionally glancing over at Heero who rudely ignored her, and Wufei had stood up in his seat, declared that forks required no skill and therefore were for weaklings! His loud tirade was cut mercifully short, however, when Gil silently pulled a pair of chopsticks from thin air and quietly handed them over to Wufei. The Chinese boy accepted, but ate the rest of his meal covered in a thick cloud of sullen silence. Trowa had done nothing out of the ordinary, as well as Quatre, but the back of Trowa's neck kept turning flaming red whenever Kari passed him the brisket, which they learned was a type of meat that one could eat and floss with at the same time.

__

So this is what being in a real_ home is like, _Trowa though, lying in bed later that night, Quatre breathing rhythmically in the bed next to his. The whole room seemed to envelope him in a cocoon of spiritual warmth; a sort of mental hug._ It's kind of nice._ He decided and rolled over on his side to stare at his friend, now sleeping off the excitement of the day. Tomorrow would be just as busy. Belle had already planned a trip to the mall for clothing and other essentials and the day after –Monday- would mark their first day at a new school with Misty and Kari. It was still only early September and the school year had just begun, so there would be not too many hassles. Belle had almost grinned herself to death with all her plotting and planning.

Methodically, Trowa mulled over the events of the day in his mind. The young man known as Walker Broman stuck out the most to him. His life, his struggles and his ruined face stared back out that the Silencer with eyes clear and bright as a half-sucked lemon drop. Within their depths lay a strength that was unparalleled to any that Trowa had ever seen, but deeper still, he detected a measure of incapacitating sorrow. Crippling sadness, the kind that drove sane men to the ledges of buildings, their clothes flapping in the wind, their eyes wild with fear even as they take that last step and finally push themselves off and away… This sorrow was of a breed that Trowa knew all too well. And yet this young man went on, despite his ruined skin and failing health, to care for his kinsmen of Alaryan's Keep. For this, Trowa's respect for the scarred young man was bountiful. 

_And he didn't even tell us the end of the story…_

The people Trowa met also surfaced. Belle and Gil were nice enough, in their own quiet, cheering sort of way. At dinner, Gil had shyly revealed that he was the Head Librarian of all of the Keep's several huge libraries and promised he would show him around if Trowa so wished. And Belle, with her soft smile, had graced the table with her warmth and kindness, telling stories, answering questions, all with a patience that made her seem all the more like a mother. The decision was made, and both were found acceptable. The red-haired girl, Misty, also came to him, passed and was accepted. She was likeable, in an energetic, Duo-like way. Finally, the girl, Kari, was inspected. She was mute as well as blind, but possessed a small gem fixed to a necklace that enabled her to "talk" via the mind. Trowa had seen it nestled in the hollow of her throat when she leaned over to pass the potatoes at dinner.

Not that he had been looking, of course.

Kari had been born and raised to be a Ring fighter for Black Hood. She went under the epithet of the Black Widow since the age of seven, famed for killing her opponents –more like victims, really- in the Ring with no mercy. She hated every waking moment of it and from the age of seven on wished fervently for an early death. Her body was surgically changed at birth, much like Walker's was, to handle better the shocks of being a fighter and to similarly speed up her body's healing process. Finally, after puberty, Kari had been given a less horrific job as a constrained pinup girl and was therefore deemed "public property" of Black Hood inner society, as many of the more attractive female projects normally were. She had remained as such -not at all fortunate, but still grimly satisfied not to be killing in the Ring- until some horrible catastrophe happened to her, sending her back to fighting, though what it was, she refused to tell. The silent girl said this all in the minds of everyone at the table, her mental voice flat and unemotional as she recounted the horrors of her early life. The last part of her story made Trowa wonder a moment, for from what he had seen, though admittedly it wasn't much, Kari was still very beautiful. He suddenly found himself thinking about her lithe, strong fighter's body and full, womanly shape. Embarrassed, he felt his face redden at the mere thought of her full, pink lips and soft swan's neck.

__

I wonder how those lips would ta- shutupshutupshutupshutup!!

Sighing, Trowa rolled over again.

It was going to be a long night.

*****

"So, how does it feel to have a houseful of kids all of a sudden?" Zach queried the next day. He and the other wizards were sitting at Gil's kitchen table, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, mainly because that's what old people did on late Sunday mornings.

"Weird." Gil flipped down the Toronto Star to look at Zach. "Duo –the one with the braid- is even more talkative than I'd initially thought. It's very different than having just Kari around."

"Tell me about it." Zach lived not far away in a little house in the forest with his daughter, her husband and their children; Darien, Walker, Ria, Tama and Misty. 

Talon grinned behind his Globe and Mail. "And Belle took them all shopping?"

Gil looked pained, or at least the front page of the newspaper he had flipped back up in front of his face did. "I can just _see_ the friction burns on my credit card now."

Nat flipped his own paper down. "And that would be why you are a heart doctor and get the big bucks while us family practitioners-" he nodded to Zach as he said this "-have only to pray for flu season."

"Please, Nat, I'm a _cardiologist_." Gil's warm face pinched into a frown. "Not a 'heart doctor'." 

"Whatever you say, doc. How long have they all been gone, exactly?"

"About six hours."

"Ahh. Iondra can be like that, too, sometimes," Nat said, referring to his wife; an elemental who –of course- was over nine centuries old and had yet to actually buckle down and do some serious aging. Apparently, the whole eternal youth idea was a female hormonal thing.

The kitchen door opened and Heero finally staggered in under the weight of at least seven bulging shopping bags. With a grunt, he dropped them right there on the floor. The wizards could feel the vibrations as they landed from their seats. Heero blew out his breath and leaned against the wall.

"Mission…complete," he panted and sat heavily down.

Chuckling, Talon shook his head. "Hell hath no fury like a woman shopping, eh, Heero?"

"Uugh…"

"Looks like the other are here as well," Zach commented from behind his National Post.

Duo staggered in, laden with bags. "Oh, lord…" he groaned , flopping down next to Heero, dropping his bags all over the floor. "Oh, man, I didn't know I could try on so many pairs of pants in one day."

Another two hulking piles of shopping bags squeezed through the door and dropped their loads. Trowa and Quatre threw themselves down on the floor next Duo. Quatre looked completely stunned.

"I've never been in so many stores in a row in my entire life! And I have twenty-nine sisters!" He blinked in shock. "I now own more ties than limbs."

Trowa simply groaned and rubbed his fingers through the close-cropped hair at the back of his head. Wufei also staggered in, dumped off his load and sat down next to him. The floor space was rapidly disappearing. Gil moaned and plopped his head in his hands.

Cathy and Relena wandered in last, a miniscule baggie for each. The boys groaned and grumbled as the girls set down their tiny bundles on the table. Five pairs of angry eyes fastened on them.

Kari strode in last, carrying at least twice as much as each of the boys had carried. Barely even breathing hard, she set down each of her many bags and grinned. **You need to bulk up, boys,** her "voice" rang clearly in their minds. **Only seven bags apiece? What a pity.**

Talon guffawed and put his hands behind his head. "Don't be so hard on them, Kari. They're exhausted."

**They still could have carried a little more, **Kari declared with a saucy little mental sniff.

Quatre quickly shifted and sat himself smack in the middle of Wufei's lap before the Chinese boy could get up and try to kill her. Or at least try. Those muscles of hers looked solid, even under layers of clothing.

"Hullo, dear." Gil got up and met his wife at the door, picking past a minefield of bags full of clothes, shoeboxes and toiletries. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he kissed her soundly on the lips. Belle's customary smile widened. "Did you enjoy yourselves?"

"I did. I think we all did, despite all complaining. Did we not?"

_Mumblemumble_yes_mumblemumble._

****

"Funny." Belle picked her way through the shopping bag maze. She stood over Wufei, her large . Quatre quickly climbed out of his lap. "Your mouth says one thing, but your mind says another." The smile left her face for a scant moment before flicking back into place. "That's not a nice thing to think, child," she said softly to Wufei, who merely glared at her.

_Bitch,_ he mouthed.

Even blindfolded, Kari managed to give the Solitary Dragon a chilling glare that could be felt right down to the very bones. 

"Well!" Nat stood up with the air of someone about to lighten up the mood, even if it killed him. "Why don't you all go upstairs and put your new things away?" His voice said "please", but his eyes said "_now_".

Bags were hefted and the boys went upstairs, Relena and Cathy in tow. Kari hesitated a moment before following but, after a while, she went.

Belle collapsed in a chair at the kitchen table, he exquisite features crumpling. "he hates me," she whispered and softly began to cry.

Awkwardly, Talon put an arm around her shoulders. "There, there, now," he murmured, not knowing what else there was to say to a weeping woman. "Who does, dear?"

"Wufei," she said almost inaudibly, collapsing against the back of her chair. Gil knelt down hurriedly next to her, afraid she would fall. "His heart, his mind…he blames me…for his pain, for what happened to his world. He hates me."

*****

Up on the stairwell, Kari leaned against the wall, wishing for tears to fall from eyes that could no longer grant them.

__

That boy…has he no heart? He hurt Mother…

"I don't understand it!" Belle's voice carried up the stairs. "There's no reason, no method. Just simple anger and hatred."

_Mother…Don't cry._

Kari's sightless eyes narrowed under their black binding as another sob escaped Belle's lips. What did this spoiled little boy know if hatred? What did he know of pain? Coddled and protected with a home and family, no doubt. A child who wanted too much and got it. Kari resisted the urge to spit. 

__

Spoiled brat, she decided.

Another sob floated up the stairs, lending strength to Kari already iron resolve.

__

He will pay.

*****

__

More soon! Ja!

--L.P.D. *//.^*


	12. St. Mark's

Hey, y'all __

Hey, y'all! Man, I almost went out of my mind when ff.net closed down. On the upside, I got the opportunity to get about thirty more pages of Alaryan's Keep typed up, so just sit back and watch the updates roll in! –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

__

I don't own Gundam Wing (I do, however, have Trieze Kushranada locked up in a trunk in my basement) The rest of this stuff is mine.

*****

The school hallway was packed as Duo tried his best to claw his way through. He mentally ran through his checklist of supplies. Backpack, paper, uniform gym clothes, notebooks, binders, stationary. Yep. All there. He shifted slightly in his cheap uniform golf shirt that for some reason cost about forty dollars. The night before, he and Misty had spent about an hour on the phone going over the stuff he and the others would need to know to look at least mildly normal in St. Mark's school. Griping about the uniform was number one on the list and feeling the flimsy material of his shirt binding at his shoulders, Duo realised this wouldn't be too hard to do. 

" 'Scuse me, pardon me, coming through."

Duo squeezed through the clots of grade 9's clogging the halls. Everywhere he looked, people in uniform clothing were jabbering excitedly at each other about what they did over the weekend, who was dating who and what homework they didn't do. Scanning the crowds, Duo spotted Quatre, who waved back at him before being swallowed up again.

People were staring at him as well. Duo could all but taste the searching looks people gave him. _Must be the braid,_ he decided, watching a group of girls drool over his fabulous hair.

__

BRRRRIIIIINNNNGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!

First bell.

Duo grinned and checked his timetable. _The odyssey begins. First stop, gym class. _After ducking into a nearby boys room to change, he made his way to the gym. Heero and Trowa were already there, stretching out. Presently, the teacher –a dark, hard faced man with the countenance of a brick- made his way into the gym, wheeling in on a rolling desk chair.

"Allll right!" he said. Duo flinched as the echoes died down._ He must think we're all deaf! _"I'm Mr. Dell, your PE teacher! I'm not going to go into any details, so everyone outside for the fitness test! Anyone who dawdles has to do pushups until I get tired of watching you!" He pointed to a random student, a scared-looking girl who was trying to cover her ears and look like she wasn't at the same time. "You! Wheel me outside! And hustle!"

*****

"Okay, kids, this is hospitality class. Oops! But you already know that, don't you?" At the front of the room, Mrs. Randolph began to laugh hysterically. The students quietly shifted away in their seats. Mrs. Randolph, just recovering from her laughing fit, didn't notice. "We'll be doing health, cooking, family life and my favourite, sewing! Yay!" 

Quatre backed away a little more. This lady was scarier than Lady Une with a monocle. And that crazy quilt she tried to pull off as a vest was starting to make his head hurt. 

"I love to sew Do you all see the vest I made?" 

__

How can we not? Quatre squinted, trying to locate her face amidst the wildly swirling colours. 

"Now get out your spatulas and let's all make some cake!"

__

Kill me…

*****

"Hey!"

Alone in the hallway, Wufei turned to look at the guy standing behind him and kept on walking. The guy behind him was tall and broad with a varsity hockey jacket and the low, sloping forehead of the common St. Mark's jock, or _sportacus moronicus_. He also looked angry.

"Hey, you!"

Wufei shrugged and slowed his pace. He was on spare, so he could stand to waste a bit of time. "Yeah?" he called back.

The ogre stopped and there was a short pause as his brain conveyed the words piece by piece to his thick-lipped mouth. "Chinamen aren't welcome here!" he said finally. "Go back to China!"

"What did you say?" Wufei's almond eyes narrowed dangerously, but he still kept on walking.

The ogre didn't notice. "I said go back to China, freak!"

Wufei stopped.

Wufei lunged.

And for a scant moment in the hallways of St Mark's, time froze.

*****

__

"Okay!" Out of doors, Mr. Dell's voice was still painfully loud. The entire gym class was out by the track shivering in the freezing wind. Duo couldn't understand it! It had been perfectly nice outside the day before! What was it that Misty had told him over the phone last night? Ah, yes. _'If you don't like the weather in Canada, wait a minute.'_ Mr. Dell was sitting before the class in his rolly chair. The wind didn't seem to touch him _at all_. "Divide up into two groups! We'll now be doing the running test! Twelve minutes of straight running around the track! Everybody divided up? Okay, first group, _go_!"

The class –collective ears still ringing- divided quickly up, Trowa and Heero in the first group, Duo in the second. The first group lined up on the track and took their marks. 

Dell took out his shiny metal whistle. "_GO_!" He blasted the whistle.

The group started out in a dead sprint, if anything than to get away from the sound of that bloody whistle. 

"Don't overdo it! You'll be doing this for a looong time!" Dell crowed, nearly inhaling his whistle.

Duo recognised the look in Trowa and Heero's eyes as they sprinted by him. He knew this look. It clearly read "mission, accepted". The braided boy grinned to himself and settled back to watch the show. _Watch out, whistle man. It's gonna be a looong semester._

*****

__

"Now break your eggies. Geeeeeeeently." Mrs. Randolph gingerly tapped her egg against the side of the bowl and let the yolk slide in.

__

Kill me. Quatre cracked his own egg and let the yolk slide in. Geeeeeeeently._ Kill me now._

****

It's not so bad, really, Kari "said" from across the room. Even with the blindfold, she manipulated her egg with exquisite perfection. **At least she loves what she does.** She paused. **Albeit a bit too much.**

Quatre nodded.** Can you hear me, Kari?**

She winced. **Don't shout. I'm not deaf just yet!**

****

Sorry.

That's a bit better.

Okay. Quatre paused to toss out his eggshells. **Can I ask you a question?**

**Of course.** The mental voice held the note of a smile in it. **Ask away.**

Why… Quatre took a deep breath and began to add in his dry ingredients to his egg goop. **What…happened?**

I'm afraid you've just lost me there, Quatre.

To you.Mental gulp**_._ I can feel a deep sorrow in you.**

A feeling of deep tension, almost fear, came to Quatre through the blonde girl's mental touch.** Something bad. I was hurt. Those who caused it are dead. There's nothing more to say about it.**

**Oh. **Quatre went back to mixing.** Will you tell me someday?**

A long pause.** Yes, perhaps.** The thought was laden with sorrow. It weighed down on Quatre's soul like leaden ballast. **Perhaps…**

*****

Wufei walked away from the boys washroom, wiping his hands on a small scrap of St Mark's varsity hockey jacket.

"Pathetic weakling," the Solitary Dragon smirked and tossed the remnant of cloth into a nearby trashcan. "See you at lunch," he purred and made his way to the library.

Behind him, the terrified whimper of a _sportacus moronicus_ came from inside the recesses of locker number 395.

*****

Today was not a good day for Mr. Dell. First of all, he had almost fallen down the stairs leading outside, which had _almost_ caused his buttocks to leave the cushy padding of his rolly chair. Then, he had accidentally forgotten his favourite pair of track pants at home and had to wear the electric blue sweats that idiotic students who forgot their gym clothes had to wear. (AN: I have worn the electric blue sweats. I wish flaming death to the maker of the electric blue sweats). And now, fifteen minutes after the fitness test _should_ have been over, those two kids –the skinny kid with the non-uniform bike shorts below his gym shorts and the one with the funny hair- were still going strong, sprinting around the track with grim, disturbing grins on their faces. 

And that freak with the braid was still whining about taking his turn.

Dell decided to take matters into his own hands. Leaning over, he grabbed a heavy stick and chucked it right into Heero's path.

Not seeming to see it, Heero tripped and landed on his hands. 

Dell grinned.

At least, until the boy vaulted to his feet and they both went on. Twice as fast. And they still grinned at him. Dell turned white and put his head in his hands._ They've got to stop sometime! No one could keep up that pace for more than two minutes more!_

But Trowa and Heero kept on until the bell. They even ran all the way to the changeroom.

*****

__

Thank goodness! Another school day finally over. Misty grabbed her books as the echoes of the final bell died away and made a beeline to her locker. She had to hurry or else those jerks with the Federation for Human Purity would catch up with her and bother her again about Kari and her own "freak" brothers. She grimaced. Dad always told her to ignore them and Mom always said defend yourself, but either way, the outcome could either mean suspension on her part, or at least missing the bus home.

"Hey!"

Misty stifled a scream and turned to see Duo grinning cheerfully down at her. She caught her breath and hurriedly began to jam her books into her bag. She only had a few minutes to get to the parking lot before the Federation jerk came.

"Hell-oo-oooo…"

"Hi." Misty dropped her pencil case, spilling it all over the floor. _Damn!_ Duo bent over to help her pick it up. 

"Misty?"

"Hurry up," she hissed. Movement down the hall caught her attention. Misty's heart dropped as she recognised the scarlet armbands bobbing in the crowd. "Go!"

Duo protested as she tried shoving him quietly down the hall. "Hey, I need to get my books!"

"Get them _later_!"

"Hey, Freak-lover."

"Shit," murmured Misty. "Hi," she said, warily keeping an eye on the door leading outside. The group with the Federation was neatly blocking it. She watched the group of armband-clad youths like a cornered rabbit, ready to spring to freedom as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

"Who's this?" One of them -a girl- reached out and grabbed Duo's braid. "Another freak to add to your collection?" The ex-pilot shot her a look filled with venom and slapped her hand away. She whistled loudly as she made a quick appraisal of what she saw. "A feisty one, I see. Nice bod." Her look became malice-filled. "Made to be a play toy like your bitch friend Kari? Gonna be someone's pet kitten, braidy-boy?"

"Leave us alone. We have a bus to catch," Misty said. She hated this. The only reason they bothered Misty was because she was the only one they knew of who was affiliated with the Keep that wouldn't fight back. 

"Where's the hurry?" A boy grinned, grabbing Misty's slender wrist. "We only want to _play_."

"Piss off." Misty's heart nearly stopped at the cold, murderous tone to her left. Duo apparently had gotten annoyed. "Before I decide to _play_ back."

"Oooh, a _fighter_." One of the older ones, a guy with a black crescent of higher rank on his armband, grinned like a snake. "Do you want to dance, kitten?"

_Crack. _Duo answered by cracking his knuckles, one by one._ Crack. Crack._ There was something almost offensive in the way he did it, his eyes clearly saying "bring it on, bitch,". Misty braced herself, feeling gently for the dagger sheath strapped to her wrist. 

"Hey."

Misty gasped. _Walker!_ He was standing at the far end of the hallway, car keys held easily in hand like some sort of lethal weapon. Narrowed yellow eyes honed in on the group, burning whatever more words they wanted to say into cinders. They backed off, warily keeping their eyes on Walker until they moved out of sight. Two kids were one thing, they would argue later, but a full grown freak? Even the most devout members of the Federation for Human Purity would consider such a crossing to be a lethal idea.

"Lousy punk-ass kids," Walker mumbled to himself, watching them go. He wore a plain T-shirt and jeans like any normal person would, but Duo couldn't help but notice the flesh-coloured Tensor bandages wrapped around the bits of his bare arms that were scarred or touched by plague. Not noticing Duo's stare, the young man casually dropped a powerful forearm around his little sister's thin shoulders. "I wanted to surprise you, sis. Amy and I are going to grab a shake or something and we figured you'd like to come." He smiled like a lazy cat at Duo. "How 'bout it, Duo? You could get to see the town, what little there is of it."

Duo nodded excitedly. _Oh, boy. Sugar!_ "Just let me grab my books and stuff."

"Sure. Amy and I are going to be outside waiting in the parking lot."

" 'Kay." 

Duo turned to Misty as soon as Walker was gone. "Ookay…what in the hell just happened back there?" 

Still shoving books in her bags, Misty didn't look up. Duo noticed with some concern that she was shaking like a leaf. "That, my dear, are junior members of the Federation for Human Purity. A bunch of card-carrying wackos who think that all those who survived Black Hood's experiments should be eradicated from the face of the Earth."

Duo whistled. "Daaaaaamn. Isn't that just a little bit extreme?"

A tiny nod and then silence. Obviously the Federation was a sensitive topic for Misty. They headed for Duo's locker. He'd only been at St Mark's for a day, but for some reason Misty wasn't very surprised to see it was a complete mess. He grabbed his books and they went on. 

"Sometimes they hold protests outside the walls of the Keep –most of the other survivors live there, at least until they can face the outside world- and scream the same things over again: 'Send out the freaks! Send out the freaks!'. They usually have baseball bats or bits of lead pipe with them. Once one survivors couldn't take it any more." Misty bit her lip and swallowed. Duo put a comforting arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently. "He was beaten for hours before we could get him back. Sometimes they even wait in alleys for some unsuspecting 'freak' and beat them senseless, or try to kill them. So far it hasn't worked yet." She smiled wanly. "Black Hood builds their freaks to last." A small tear slipped furtively down her cheek, followed closely by another.

_Uh, oh, Shinigami. Time to change the subject. _"So, uh…who's Amy?"

"Huh? Oh, she's Walker's girlfriend." They were in the parking lot now, moving towards a green Jeep. Walker waved at them from the driver's seat. Duo waved back, taking his arm off Misty's shoulders. "She's a real sweetheart, almost like one of the family," Misty continued, "They've been together since high school." A tiny, mischievous smile played upon her elfin face as the pair neared the Jeep. "Tama and I used to spy on them when they made out on the couch. They still don't know about it, either!" She paused. "I think."

"Huh." Duo said thoughtfully. _He's dying and she's staying with him. Talk about tight._

"Hi!" A beautiful young woman stepped out of the front passenger side of the Jeep. Amy. Duo felt his heart lurch. _Daaaaaamn…_

Amy was a smallish young woman with huge blue eyes and short black hair that curled gently at the nape of her neck, held back by a simple clip. She was slender and beautiful as a summer day with an air about her that seemed to shout "let's play!". She leaned now on the Jeep's hood, slim ankles crossed, divine legs bent slightly at the knee. Upon seeing her, Duo's body quickly forgot the simple mechanics of breathing.

"Hi!" Misty called back. Grabbing Duo by the wrist, she dragged him to the Jeep. "This is Duo," she declared.

"Hello, Duo." Amy took the limp hand and shook it. "I'm Amy."

"Gnngh." _Could I swim in your eyes?_

"Come on, you guys, I'm getting hungry." Walker sighed gustily and started up the Jeep.

"Errg."_ Did you know you were a goddess when you woke up this morning?_

Amy leaned over to Misty. "Nice guy, but is he always so quiet?"

"Ahahaha, _no._" Misty climbed into the backseat, dragging Duo the bumbling imbecile behind her. "Cherish this moment while it still lasts." 

Walker laughed and made his way out of the parking lot. The last of the buses where just pulling away. "Amy's been with me too long. She's immune to too much chatter."

Amy's slender hand found Walker's upper thigh. "Not that I mind it," she purred, "coming from you."

And lo, Walker Broman, all powerful war mage, master of the sword, and Lord of Alaryan's Keep turned red to the roots of his hair.

Misty rolled her eyes. Duo mentally took notes. _If he can get a babe like that, I'm a shoo in!_

*****

__

Sugarsugarsugarsugarsugarsugarsugarsugarsugarsugarsugar!

"Um, I think that's enough sprinkles, Duo," Misty said, standing on her tiptoes to peer over her friend's shoulder. The people behind the counter at the Dairy Dream looked like they regretted ever having heard the words "self serve". Duo looked like a mad scientist putting the final touches on his monster creation.

"Yeah," Duo agreed. "I'd better leave enough room for my ice cream."

"You mean there's no ice cream under all that!?" Misty prodded the small mound of brightly coloured pellets in Duo's cup with her spoon. It slid apart, revealing that the ice cream was indeed not there. "You'll be bouncing off the walls for hours!"

"Yep!"

"Oh, man, you're actually _proud_ of it?"

The pair wandered together to the table Walker and Amy had chosen after Duo layered mound after mound of soft serve into his cup. The older couple was already deep in serious conversation. Walker seemed agitated. 

"What's up?" queried Misty. She took a lick of her cone.

"We've just located another unmanned Black Hood base," murmured Walker. "A storage bunker in the Gobi desert disguised as a government research facility."

Misty nodded, sombre now. "What are they storing?"

"Chemicals, some basic guard dog experiments, and about fifty or so clone tanks."

Sweet-faced Misty suddenly turned dead grim. "And the security level?"

"Moderate, but there's definitely going to be some fierce resistance. Kari, Ryu, Darien and I can't do it alone." The scarred young man moodily watched his ice cream melt in front of him. "I'm thinking Dulcet will have to come, but we still need people with advanced ballistics knowledge and expert explosive experience." _Thud._ Walker dropped his head heavily on the table, almost knocking over Amy's milkshake. Amy gently began to stroke his hair, offering what little comfort she could. "Where am I going to get a bunch of sharpshooters and bomb-makers on such short notice?"

Duo simply smiled. "Y'know, I think I can help you."

******

__

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review!!

Ja ne!

L.P.D. *//.^*


	13. The Testing

***** 

_ Hey, y'all! Okay, I know I only updated Alaryan's Keep yesterday, but an all but frantic review spurred me on to put up another chapter. This one's for you, Sharaloth The Uber-Writer! --Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*_

I don't own Gundam Wing. I do own everything else. So no touchy or I'll have Walker turn you into a radish.

*****   


"So you volunteered us," Trowa murmured from his bed, "for an insanely dangerous mission we know nothing about in which we could be killed at any time in any number of horrible ways?" He sat up. "Sounds like fun."

The five ex-pilots were holed up in Trowa and Quatre's bedroom, mulling over this new plot twist. Relena, Cathy and Kari lounged with them, lined up in a row on Quatre's bed. Cathy was even braiding Relena's hair.

"We shouldn't be fighting," Quatre sighed sadly. Relena leaned over and gave him a quick hug, tugging Cathy along with her.

"It's your choice, Quatre," she reminded him gently. "You don't have to fight if you don't want to. Walker made that very clear."

"I know…" The gentle cerulean eyes were troubled. "But you saw what Black Hood has done. I met some of the survivors around the Keep. They told me their stories." A tear began to meander its slow way down his cheek. "Their stories… Oh, lord…"

There was an uncomfortable silence as Kari silently handed Quatre a tissue. He blinked fiercely at the ceiling a moment before going on. "I…I want to fight. For them."

Beside Relena and Cathy, Kari smiled slightly. Staring at her pouty lips, Trowa's ears turned flaming red. Cathy quietly began to giggle. 

"I'm in, too." Heero cracked his neck. "This past year's been dull."

"Mmm," Wufei sighed almost wistfully. "Too dull. But what about the girl?"

Behind her blindfold, Kari glared at him.

"No dishonour meant, but how will you see to fight?" Wufei smirked, "You'll only be a threat to the mission."

**I can manage.**

The frigid thought sent chills down the assembled spines of everyone there. Slowly, deliberately, Kari unwound and pulled off the black band circling her head to reveal a pair of wide beautiful eyes framed with long, pale eyelashes.

Of course, the fact that the eyes themselves were dead white from corner to corner took a bit away from their otherwise stunning beauty.

The others blinked.

Kari blinked back. 

The back of Trowa's neck turned bright flaming red.

**You're blushing.**

Cathy fought to control her laughter.

A lovely smile found its way onto Kari's face. **I see through heat signatures. In some ways it's better than normal sight.** She shot a venomous look at Wufei. **It allows me to see past people's facades.**

"Uh huh. All's well and good, but there's still one leetle catch I kinda neglected to mention," Duo said, sitting up from where he had lain on the floor. "They have to run a few tests on us to see what were made of.

Heero straightened, eyes alert. "What kind of tests?"

"Uh, psychological and physical type testing." Slowly Duo unfolded and stood, cracking various stiff joints. "Nothing too invasive."

"Hmm. Sounds interesting. I'll bite."

Cathy frowned at Trowa's remark. "Don't you even think about getting hurt out there, Trowa Barton." Leaning in, she pressed an extended finger into the soft cartilage of her surrogate brother's nose. "Because if you do, I'll break both your legs."

Trowa snapped off a smart salute. "Yes _ma'am!_"

*****

"Alright, then." Zach passed along the line of boys all standing rigidly at attention. "Today we begin the process of opening the doors to your psyches and seeing how much your bodies can stand up to a Black Hood raid." The thin old man sauntered up and down the line, hands clasped easily behind his back. Physically, he was a rather small gentleman, skinny and wrinkled as crumpled parchment. But now, as the assembled ex-pilots watched him stare them over with hard grey eyes buried deep in the midst of almost cavernous cowl of his hued the deepest twilight blue, he seemed hundreds of metres tall. 

"Some of you may pass, others may be left behind to cry and wallow in their inadequacy. Whatever the case, we need the best of the best for this mission and nothing less. No pussycats. Do you understand me?"

"_Sir_! Yes _sir_!" Five pairs of eyes glittered at the prospect.

Zach went on, bidding them a gesture to stand at ease. "The psychological test will begin first, for if we don't know your mental limits, or if they prove to be too low, then the physical test is useless. There are things within that corporation that can drive a normal man straight to insanity."

"_Sir_!"

"Alright. One by one you'll be subjected to a few simple tests. Nothing too serious or uncomfortable. Nothing invasive. If it's too much, then say so and it stops immediately, though it may jeopardise your chances of accompanying the others on the raid. The only catch is that you must take the tests alone."

He paused to flick a fat drop of sweat that was rolling down the side of Quatre's neck. The boys wore the identical work clothing particular to the Bhaarliad fashion: dark brown pants topped with black sashes, high leather boots and creamy tan shirts that laced at the neck, though most were left open, since all of the boys could still not figure out how to tie them. Duo had said hell with it and just pinned his shirt shut. Zach stopped in his pacing to pluck them out. They plinked tinnily to the stone floor, their sound echoing in the stiff silence. Duo blushed hotly, but remained at ease.

"Quatre," Zach said, not unkindly.

The blond boy stiffened.

"You're first."

*****

"Okay, son." Nat smiled easily as Quatre, who sat ramrod straight in the soft, comfortable couch in front of the Broman family TV.

The Broman house was a large, two-story cabin not more than fifteen minutes from the Ichara home. Because of his illness, Walker still lived at home and Darien had chosen to stay with him. The twins lived in their original bedroom on the first floor with the kitchen, bathroom and mudroom. The girl's room, their parents' room, Zach's room, Ali Broman's studio and the TV room –where Quatre and Nat now sat- were located on the second floor.

Zach was a family doctor, sharing a clinic in town with Nat -who was the resident pediatrician- and when Zach returned home in the evenings, he took his relaxation very seriously. The walls were painted black and lined with shelf after shelf of videos, CDs, DVDs, books on tape and video games (he claimed they helped his arthritis). The farthest wall from the door was a floor to wall bookshelf crammed with all sorts of books. The opposite wall from that had only the entertainment system, TV, and across from that, Quatre.

"Care for a snack?"

"I beg your pardon?" Quatre blinked at the bowl of trail mix set on the coffee table. 

"Zach makes it." Nat picked through the edible jumble and popped a pretzel stick in his mouth. "It's probably the only food he can make without accidentally igniting first."

"Ahahaha…"

A remote was given to him. 

"_Relax_, child." Nat cheerfully ruffled Quatre's straw-blond hair. "This isn't going to hurt at all. Just watch TV or put in a movie and I'll just sit here and observe you."

The Arab boy's cerulean eyes gleamed like freshly polished aquamarines. "Belle's downstairs in the kitchen."

A nod. "She is. But she won't probe further than you want her to," the old man said gently, trying to calm the skittish boy. "Shall we begin?"

The TV flicked on. 

*****

Downstairs in the Broman family kitchen, Belle tapped her lips with her pen and scribbled down another quick note as she felt the subtle shift of Quatre's emotions. So far, he had watched the news channel and paid close attention to the financial report, understanding and deep interest mingled with homesickness coming through to Belle. As the scene on the screen had changed to one of bloodshed and war, he had flipped the channel, but not before feelings of sickness and guilt buried deeply in the boy's psyche came through. A deep-seated hatred of violence tinged with the unwanted longing to fight.

__

He is a peaceful warrior, Belle wrote, sadly visualising the gentle child now watching "The Sound of Music" with a light heart upstairs. _A lamb with a sword._

Sighing, Belle flipped to another sheet of paper. Her Gentle Noble's time was almost up. Duo was next.

*****_  
_

"So I can watch whatever I want?"

Nat smiled at the braided bundle of energy bouncing up and down on couch. "Within reason, yes."

" 'Kay!"**  
He's quite the cutie, isn't he? **Belle commented in Nat's mind.

Nat grinned. **That he is.**

"Can I have a Coke?" Duo chirped. Through his time on this new Earth, Duo had developed a taste for Coke. Or Pepsi. Or Jolt. Or anything dangerously sugary and relatively cola-esque. 

"Ah…Maybe something a little less caffineated," Nat decided, watching Duo fidget and bounce.

"Oh." Duo grabbed the remote. "Okay."

He flicked on the TV.

*****

He's hiding. Thinking for a moment,Belle frowned and penned on._ Outwardly, he is a cheerful boy, as happy a child as I've ever seen. But inwardly, he is tainted**. **Sorrow has wormed its way into the foundation of his happiness and made it weak._ Conviction gripped her then, and she continued on with fervour._ But with a little love, this can be overcome._

And I'm the lady to give it, she thought to herself. 

Duo television habits were mainly normal. He flipped back and forth between various programs and the popular music channel. He liked the sitcoms, but Belle noted a small twinge of envy whenever the families indulged in a sappy caring, sharing moment. 

__

Odd…   
A religious show had come on a bit later, causing Duo to cease in his constant flipping –which Belle sensed was slowly driving Nat insane- and watched it the whole way through, a feeling of homey comfort suffusing him in creamy warmth.

This sweet happiness did not last long, however. During a commercial break, a paid announcement about helping the starving children of Third World countries. One look at their skinny, hunger-ravaged bodies had sent Duo's mind reeling through a chasm of personal pain. Of hunger, of fear, of cold. Of sudden merciless death at the hands of those who cared little for the rabble trodden on under their feet. 

A sad frown creased her face as Belle took note of this and jotted it down. These events were something crucial to Duo's life and it could be in his best interest to delve deeper into them. But not now. Trowa was up next.

*****

"So just have to sit and watch TV and I'll record your reactions to what you see, okay?" Nat explained for the third time that day.

Nod.

"Good."

And again the TV was flicked on.

*****

__

Belle was frustrated. This boy Trowa was emotionally silent! All he watched was the news and a few reruns of "Circus" on the Life network. Aside from slight to moderate interest, there was nothing there, leaving Belle nothing to do but doodle angrily on her notepad.

Abruptly, Belle noticed something. Tiny as it was, it bobbed freely in the vast sea of neutral non-emotion and Belle grabbed at it before it could get away.

It had come when he had popped in one of the Broman home movies. Last Thanksgiving at the huge dining hall of the Keep. Belle remembered that day. Cornucopias had been all over the tables and the walls were draped in golden tan, orange, crimson and rich brown. Food all but dripped off the platters and the buffet tables groaned with their weight. Darien had been filming and Walker, of course, had spent more time hamming it up than actually eating. At least until Tama hit him over the head with a turkey leg. But it was when Kari came into the picture –which was rare, the girl was a master when it came to avoiding camera lenses- that Trowa took notice and this intrigued Belle.

Could it be that this cold, emotionless boy had developed his first crush?

*****

"This is stupid. I have better ways to waste my time than watching TV!"

Rubbing his throbbing forehead with his free hand, Nat made a fist with his free hand. Wufei suddenly fell silent, though not of his own volition.

"You _will_ watch TV." Nat's eyes were dangerously narrow. "I will watch you. You will be _quiet._" The wizard unclenched his fist. Wufei glared at him, but wisely remained silent. It is never a good idea to trifle with a man who could easily cause rhubarb to sprout from one's ears.

"That's better. Care for a Cheeto?"

Wufei was still glaring at him as the TV was yet again flicked on.

*****

__

Strange boy. Belle wrote as she noted the deep sense of annoyance from the Chinese boy. Currently, he was watching a martial arts movie, fuming about how incorrectly _everything_ was being done. _He wishes for perfection. Strives for it, wants it in everything he sees. But he knows deep inside himself that he isn't perfect and it fills him with such rage._

She probed deeper into Wufei's mind. Loss abounded there, deeply buried within layers of confusion and hidden far, far below was an unwanted granule of fear.

__

He is a child who was never given a childhood, I suppose. A boy who was forced to become a man. How will he cope now that he is a normal kid? Will he be accept our love? 

Belle flipped the page a final time and looked fleetingly to the coming sunset. One more left to go. 

*****

"Are you sure you don't want a drink or something, son?" Nat offered again to the silent boy.

"Yes." Heero sat almost motionlessly on the couch, fingering the open laces on his shirt.

"Okay, I'm sure you know the drill from the others. You watch TV and I watch you and take notes." He tapped his pad with his pen. "That's all."

"Hn." Heero nodded.

"Sooooo…" Nat tried something Belle had suggested to him. "Your mission is to watch TV and let me observe you."

"Mission accepted."

He flicked on the TV.

*****

Belle's notepad remained blank. This boy Heero felt even less than Trowa. He felt nothing. Reacted to nothing. Had Belle not known better, she would have thought him to be asleep. Or perhaps dead.

__

What's wrong with this boy? Belle got up to make herself a fresh cup of coffee._ He's so empty. Almost hollow._

At this moment, Heero was flipping through the channels, his body as still as when he first sat down. The channels were flicked at twenty-five second intervals, not one second more nor one less. Not one muscle moved, aside from his thumb on the remote and the dilation of his pupils. Heero was notwatching TV out of enjoyment, but rather out of duty.

__

Twenty-four…twenty-five…flick…

Still no emotion. Belle sipped her coffee.

__

Twenty-four…twenty-five…flick…

Still nothing.

__

Twenty-four…twenty-five…twenty-six…twenty-seven…

The coffee cup fell from Belle's hand, shattering on the kitchen floor. The ageless woman didn't notice, too busy groping for her pen. 

Heero was watching something.

And it was disturbing him.

__

Heero is watching a show on child abuse. Belle recorded diligently._ It stabs him like a knife to see it. His heart of stone is wounded and his soul cries out as he watches, but the exterior is still smooth. His heart bleeds for these children. It's almost as though he feels their pain._

She probed still deeper into the silent boy's mind. The result twisted Belle's stomach.

__

This isn't pity. It's experience.

*****

Talon Gaevrien was worried. He had read over Belle's notes and the pictures they painted were less than pretty. As Head of Intelligence –a post his stupid First Minister older brother Zach _loved_ to tease him about- Talon saw many a personality filter through via his reports and these boys were definitely like no other children –for indeed, children they were- he had ever seen.

The TV test had shown them to be outwardly happy, or at least mildly content with their situations. Inwardly, however, they were so different. They were afraid; children born into violence, children who had seen far too much. Although they were mentally shaky, the IQ test showed that they were certainly intelligent enough, all of them scoring through the roof and beyond. 

Talon shuffled his thick stack of paperwork, all of it about the past week of testing. Judging from the report Darien had left on his desk that morning, the boys were physically capable of going on the upcoming raid. All of them were in peak physical condition, though Quatre would need a tiny bit of work to bring him up to the level of the other boys. They were all dead shots and they knew vast amounts about bombs and bomb construction, especially Duo. They worked very well under pressure and did well in the various simulations Zach conjured up for them. 

It was their emotional states that worried Talon. Belle had looked into their minds and advised that they could easily handle a raid such as the one coming up. These boys were the perfect specimens of soldiers. They would be fine –relatively speaking- during the raid.

But as human beings, they lacked almost as much as freshly-rescued survivors of the Black Hood. This was what worried Talon. They would be fine when it came to battlefield violence and personal pain, but when it came to dealing with themselves, the road suddenly became treacherous. They were fear and mental pain mingled with training and strict discipline. Soldiers to the core.

Talon selected a file marked "Bed Test" from the sheaf and flipped it open. The bed test was the brainchild of Jaeid, one of the many Bhaarliad scholars in the Keep. The idea was simple: the subject was to be put to bed and when she or he was asleep, a humanoid dummy was put into the bed. The way the sleeper reacted to the new "person" in their bed would then give a insight into the sleeper's psyche.

Talon flipped a sheet and began to read.

Quatre Raberba Winner: The subject was at ease and fell asleep quickly, despite being in a strange bed. When the dummy was introduced, the subject seemed to be in the thick of a nightmare and snuggled up immediately to the dummy for comfort. This may suggest a loving personality, although the persistent nightmares seem to suggest some inner strife that may need to be brought to light at a later date.

Duo Maxwell: The subject refused to fall asleep! He bounded around the test room for the better part of an hour before settling down to bed. When the dummy was introduced, the subject came close to it, but kept jerking away as soon as he made contact. This behaviour suggests that although he is outwardly loving, he is afraid to get too close to people.

Trowa Barton: Fell asleep after turning and tossing for a long while. The subject exhibited some bizarre behaviour when the dummy was put into the bed. As soon as it was introduced, the subject shifted over and lay perfectly still on his back _exactly_ between the dummy and the far edge of the bed. The emotional analysis is therefore found to be inconclusive.

Chang Wufei: Fell asleep immediately after about ten minutes of tai chi. When the dummy was set next to him, the subject first located the dummy with an outflung hand and then quickly pummelled it within and inch of its life until it fell from the bed. The subject is clearly antisocial and leery of human contact.

Heero Yuy: The subject _looked _asleep, but as soon as I touched the bed to introduce the dummy, the subject rolled over, pulled a gun from lord only knows where and muttered a low death threat in Japanese. Although the dummy was not introduced, it has been ruled that the subject is even more antisocial than young Wufei.

__

Jumpy, afraid, mentally unstable and _antisocial. How lovely. Ladies and gentlemen, meet the future of our world._ Talon set down the file and smiled sadly. smiling became wry chuckling, which quickly gave way to roars of laughter. _What more can I do but laugh?_ Wiping away tears of mirth, he plopped the file in the cabinet beside him. 

__

Heaven help you Gil, he thought to himself. _You've got a double handful with these ones._

*****

_ See you later, and don't forget to review!_

Ja ne!

--L.P.D. *//.^*


	14. Preparation

*****

_ Wow. A whole week's already gone. Time certainly flies, doesn't it? Well, I just spent some of the last days of summer cramped in a classroom for driving school. Yippee. Anyway, here's the next chapter! --Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*_

*****

The next morning was hot. Moreover, it was almost unbearably stifling. Trowa squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, his brand new bullet-proof body armour barely shifting on him. A trickle of sweat crawled slowly between his shoulder blades, making him squirm even more. The kitchen was crowded and the air was rank with sweat.

What was it again that Misty kept telling him? Ah yes. "If you don't like the weather in Canada, just wait a minute."

"Stop wiggling!" Cathy sniped. She shoved her sweaty hair from her face and resumed brushing back Trowa's bangs. "Hold still." Something slimy and shockingly cold was slopped onto Trowa's head, momentarily chasing away the oppressive heat. He grimaced as the gel was dragged through his hair and the whole brown, gooey mess was secured at the back of his neck with an elastic band.

"Oh, Trowa…" Quatre gasped at his now bang-less friend. "Your face is so…there."

"Don't move, Quatre. You'll end up getting goo in your eye." Relena paused in dragging the soft black pencil through his eyebrow. The raid was to take place later that day and the boys were getting ready. This raid, like any other, was going to be risky and Dulcet had insisted that the boys be as unrecognisable, in case some of the cameras at the base were still in use. Thus, to the Gentle Noble's chagrin, Quatre's hair had been previously dyed a cheap midnight black and Relena was just putting the finishing touches on his eyelashes and brows.

The ex-pilots, Relena, Cathy, Kari, Dulcet, the Broman family and Belle were all at the Broman home, crammed into the tiny kitchen. The air seemed almost tangible as everyone in the room tried their best not to breathe it.

"Nooo!" Duo shrieked, sprinting around the kitchen table, Belle and Marrigan Broman racing after him, bathed in sweat. "Nooo! I am _not_ going to dress in drag!" 

"Is he _always_ like this?" Marrigan lunged for Duo's braid and missed. The Broman siblings' mother was a smallish woman with wine-red hair darker than that of Walker and her daughters. A warrior by trade, even at rest, she looked more than ready to kill or maim something.

"NO! I'm _not_ wearing it!!!" 

Calm down, Duo." Ali Broman paused in daubing makeup around Wufei's eyes to hide his telltale ethnicity. The Broman patron looked comical doing it, a seven-foot tall Arab man patiently painting away with a brush that looked like it would snap in his hands. His other hand cupped Wufei's chin with surprising gentleness, showing his Druidic calling and the way the brush make perfect stroke after perfect stroke showed he was an artist by trade. (AN: Just like me! Except for the seven foot tall male Druid thing…) "Wufei is sitting still. If you run around then you'll just get sweaty and the makeup will be all the more difficult to get on."

"_Nooooo_!!!!!!"

"Duo, get your lily ass over here!" Marrigan shouted.

"_Nooooo_!!!!!!" 

"Just wait until he passes out from the heat and paint him then." Heero walked in from the bathroom, his face and hands done up with wicked scars.

"NOOOOO!!!!!" 

With a gusty sigh, Misty paused in the middle of helping Kari get her torso armour on and lunged as Duo dashed by, grabbing him around the waist in a hard hug that knocked them both over.

"NOO-"

"_Please_, Duo?" The red-haired bard pouted with tears welling up in her eyes. "_Please_? I'd hate for Black Hood to recognise you and hurt you. Pretty, pretty _please_? For me?" She shot him point blank with the puppy dog eyes. "_Please_?"

Duo squeezed his eyes shut, but the pout seemed to bore it's way through his eyelids. "Argh…shit…damn…okay." He sat up and sighed, turning his face up. "Fine. Ladies, make me into a girl." The Great Shinigami didn't seem happy to say it, but at least Misty had stopped pouting at him.

"That was evil," Cathy accused with a smile. "How did you do that?"

Misty grinned back. "I'm the baby of the family. Puppy eyes are like survival tactics to me." She stood and made a show of brushing herself off. "Besides, it was that or chop off the braid."

Duo shot her a hurt look and pulled his sweaty braid close, even as the makeup-wielding Belle and Marrigan closed in and pounced, brandishing powder puffs and lipstick like petal pink swords of doom.

"Ooh, this violet eye shadow is _so_ you!" cooed Marrigan.

Belle giggled girlishly. "Stop frowning! You'll smudge your lipstick!"  
"Damn, the sweat's ruining his foundation!"

"Are you nutjobs enjoying yourselves?!"

"Why yes, thank you, dear."

"AAARGGHH!!!"

A tiny breath of cool air escaped into the stifling kitchen as Walker pulled a Sprite from the fridge. "Quit yelling, Duo," he said, wearily twisting the cap off. "The long hair is more recognisable on a boy than on a girl and we don't know enough about how your body'd react to magic to try cutting and regrowing it later."

Duo shot him a murderous look as Belle gathered up his hair to make a half ponytail. "Easy for you to say. You get to stay male."

"Quiet, Duo." Ria sighed and placed her own ice cold Sprite to her sweaty forehead and tossed another to Ryu, who had just come in the side door, already wearing his body armour and a long leather trenchcoat. Opaque black sunglasses covered his disconcertingly red eyes. Despite his layers of clothing and the heat, he didn't seem to be sweating, or even mildly uncomfortable. "Ooohhh, that feels good," Ria sighed again. "It's too hot to listen to you whine. So be good or we'll break out the control top pantyhose. _Ma'am._"

Ears twitching away an enquiring fly, Dulcet stood, his fur damp with sweat. There was scalpel in his hand, which he turned over and over with practised ease. "Enough banter. We have a job to do." He looked the boys over. All were now radically different than when they first came in. Trowa with his brushed-back ponytail, Wufei with his wide eyes and loose hair, Heero with his scarred face and hands, Quatre with his raven tresses and Duo with his pouty, painted face and his half-ponytail. Marrigan had even taken the liberty of tying it with a simply _precious_ little pink ribbon. Dulcet gestured to Tama, who was leaning by the fridge, basking in the sweet chill whenever someone opened the door. "Go and get the box, please. I left it on Walker's bed."

Tama nodded and went into small room off the kitchen.

"So far we haven't told you boys too much of what we're going to do during this upcoming raid." Dulcet's yellow eyes glinted in the brassy sunlight while the scalpel shone steely in his hand. "The storage bunker –our target- is located in the Gobi desert directly below a fake government research centre some fifty miles in or so." The lynx man paused and tossed an opalescent dream drop into the air. A floor plan appeared in the air. "This," Dulcet began, pointing to a wide chamber deep in the centre of the compound with his scalpel, "is where the clones are being stored. There are about fifty of them in independently operating holding tanks, though there could be more. Black Hood has been smart lately: the compound is completely unmanned. No human casualties, no witnesses. Our mission is to go in, lay explosives, blow the place to hell and back and then get our asses out of there. In a perfect world, we could just get in, use magic and get out, but Black Hood has discovered a way to block magic use in their facilities. In other words, they use shields to block out magic just to screw us all over, so we have to do it the old fashioned way." He paused to mop at a trickle of sweat running between his eyes. "There'll be genetically mutated watchdogs hybrids in there, no question about it. We haven't been able to uncover what they may be this time, but there have been signs that Black Hood is reanimating their dead. If any of you want back down, I totally understand. This is your last chance, after this there's no running away. Are there any takers?" 

None of the newly-disguised boys backed off. They simply nodded slowly, letting all this new information sink in. 

A huge cardboard box wandered into the room. "Here you go," Tama said from somewhere behind it. She set it down on the kitchen table among tubes of makeup and hair gel and fake scars. 

"Thank you." The cat man opened the box and reached in, pulling out several pairs of sunglasses. Carefully, he inspected each one and separated them into two piles. "These sunglasses are a very important asset to our mission." He tapped a small bud attached to the rim of one. "This bud lets the boys back here see and hear everything we do. The lenses aren't tinted on your side of the glass, but they'll hide your eyes to some extent. Ryu, come here."

The huge man strode forward, not sweating despite the oppressive heat. Dulcet reached up and tapped the arm of his glasses, tipping them forward a bit to reveal a thin, black wire plugged directly into the big man's temple. "These sunglasses" –he pointed to a pile- "are for the survivors. We're fitted with internal plugs all over our bodies. The one here" –he tapped his own head- "goes directly into the brain, so our information is a bit more thorough. Hence, my scalpel here." Dulcet grinned widely, baring fanged incisors and held the shiny metal instrument up before setting it down again and reaching back into the box. This time, he pulled out a long, black leather trench coat. "This, aside from looking really cool with the sunglasses, is also important for the mission. These babies are the brainchild of Keown and Pinney in the research labs of the Keep. They're completely slash proof and flame retardant, plus they hide the body armour and your body shapes quite effectively."

Darien spoke up. "We're also going to arm you guys to the teeth." He pulled back his own trench coat to reveal weapons strapped to every body part. Two guns were strapped to each leg, four at the waist, two in side holsters, and a double row of throwing knives strapped crosswise on his chest. His sword, the Black Dragon, was strapped to his back, the hilt poking out from the collar of his coat. Heaven only knew what was strapped to his arms, which were still hidden in his sleeves. "Like this."

Five big scary grins grew on the boy's faces.

"Maybe we'll just arm you kids a little bit later," said Dulcet, taking notice of the freakish smiles. "Anyway, our progress will be monitored by the wizards on a set of screens back at the Keep. You can talk to them via a mic on the bridge of the sunglasses and they can talk to you via a tiny speaker in the arm by the ear piece." There was a pause as the boys shrugged on their new coats and slid on their new sunglasses, which buzzed with the sounds of tinny wizards voices.

__

"Testing, testing, one, two." 

Silently, Ryu produced another box, this one full of weapons. Dulcet, Walker, Kari, Ryu and the boys strapped them on in silence, almost listlessly in the oppressive heat. With his scalpel, Dulcet carefully uncovered the neuro-plugs in Darien, Walker, and Kari's heads, working quickly to avoid letting the incisions heal around the scalpel, and plugged the glasses in. Walker did the same to Dulcet and all was ready. 

Walker stood, daffodil eyes shrouded in tinted glass, the slender wire leading into his temple. He had his coat open and when he walked, it flapped sluggishly like the wings of some great, disaffected bird. From where she sat, Relena noticed curiously that there were vertical slashes on the back of his coat, two long ones beginning at his shoulder blades and one shorter one at the base of his spine. She asked what they were for.

Grinning slyly, Walker flexed his shoulders. Abruptly, a pair of leathery, nine-foot batlike wings burst from his back and a long, smooth, serpentine tail slithered from his spine with a dry slithery sound. Languidly, he beat the air with his wings, filling the room for an instant with blessedly cool air.

"Mmmm… that feels nice." The red-haired Lord of Alaryan's Keep stretched like a cat and snapped his tail to work the kinks out, cracking the air like a whip. He shot a cheerful look over his shoulder at the gawking crowd behind him. "I've ruined many a good suit that way, you know."

*****

"The Gateways of Alaryan's Keep were created in 1590 AD by a team of seven necromancers who wanted a new way to travel between worlds without encountering the Bond. So, they built in the annals of the Keep one and twenty doorways, each leading to a certain place: seven doors to the necromancers' respective homelands, thirteen go to uninhabited areas we use for agriculture, fishing or hunting.

"But the twenty-first Gateway was created differently. It was created to lead basically everywhere else, anywhere the user wishes to go." Darien's voice bounced off the low stone ceiling of the tunnel-like hallway deep below Alaryan's Keep. Quatre shivered at the echo. The oppressive heat above ground was now replaced with a dank, damp chill that clung like a clammy manacle clamped on bare skin.

Belle had been tutoring Quatre at home -it still amazed him that he already thought of it as home- every day, showing him how to use his gift and to control it. Already, he was getting better at turning his empathic powers on and off, so to speak. Tentatively, he reached out to Kari's mind and brushed against it.

****

Stop that. 

Quatre blushed deeply. **Sorry,** he apologised. **I'm still new at this.**

**Doubtless. You're as clumsy as a new born colt. Stay loose. Don't assault the mind. Flow into it.** Kari grinned suddenly.** Like this.**

To Quatre's horror and slight amusement, Wufei whipped himself around with a loud porcine snort and began slapping himself repeatedly in the face.

****

Want me to make him scratch his ass?

"Kari, stop it," Dulcet snapped over his shoulder. "You'll ruin his disguise."

Wufei stopped slapping himself in the face and cast a bewildered look at the coyly smiling girl.

"How much longer?" Duo whined. With his gift, Quatre noticed a tiny mote of embarrassment in his irritation. "My fake boobs are getting all lopsided on me."

Walker sighed. "I'd fix them for you, but I think all the men here would agree it would be just a little hard to explain if someone suddenly came down the corridor. You'll have to do it yourself, Miss."

"Shut up."

"Make me, girlie."

Duo looked sideways at Walker's muscled form, obvious even under layers of armour and clothing. Carefully, he shut his mouth and sidled slowly away.

"We're here." Darien's voice echoed loudly through the low hallway. They had come to a huge archaic wooden door fully twice his height with what looked like words written in some sort of archaic script. He grasped the giant door handle and pulled, its well-greased hinges swinging slightly. Everyone trooped in.

The Chamber of the Gateways was the medium in size and made of stone like the rest of Alaryan's Keep. The floor was worn smooth by the passage of many feet. Racks of well-greased farm implements lined the walls, shining brightly in the light flung from torches hanging in the rings around the room. Walker set his own torch in a vacant ring and strolled to the middle of the room, absently fingering the hilt of the dagger concealed in his sleeve. Abruptly, Quatre realised that he hadn't seen anyone light the torches, save for Walker's. The Gateways stood in semicircle, twenty-one simple wooden doors set up with nothing behind them. Most of the doors had something on them. Seven doors had crude pictures on them, thirteen had the same strange lettering as on the chamber door. The last Gateway had nothing on it.

"Those pictures are the signets of the seven necromancers," Zach buzzed in Quatre's ear. "See? That eagle was the seal of Deliraeal, and the door leads to his homeland." Tiny crosshairs honed in on the door in question, mute testament to the four wizards at the controls topside in the Keep. The crosshairs moved to a door with the sign of a fox on it. "That one's Azraeyaal's land. Horrid place. All snow and ice; I haven't the faintest idea why he opened a Gateway to it in the first place."

"The writing here is called 'Ancient' the second official language here, other than English," Walker said, running his fingers over the carved letters of one of the Gateways. "This one leads to the tanneries. Stinky place." He pointed to another. "That's farmland and that" –more pointing- "is prime hunting grounds. Nice, fat coneys there. Harts, too."

****

Rabbits and deer. Kari sent out the thought to all five rather confused ex-pilots. **Walker's system needs to digest raw meat on occasion, so he hunts a lot.**

Quatre felt the turning of four stomachs, plus his own. "Raw meat?"

****

Mmm-hmm. Kari nodded, speaking again to all five boys.** He was fed only raw meat by Black Hood when he was little, so his stomach has trouble digesting other things, like chocolate. **She grinned wolfishly and licked her pouty lips. **I don't, though.**

The back of Trowa's neck turned beet red.

Walker opened the unmarked door. "Come on. We had a Jeep put out there for us and that Gobi desert sun'll heat it until it fries you to the touch if we don't get out there soon." With a wide grin, he opened the door and stepped through, not coming out the other side.

Bleakly, Dulcet grinned, baring fanged incisors at the others. "Up and away! If I die before you do, you each owe my corpse a Coke."

*****

_Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!   
Ja ne!   
L.P.D. *//.^* _


	15. The Raid

*****

_Hooray for me! My overall review count has cleared the 100 mark!! Yaaay!!! Anyhoo, a huge thanks goes out to all those who've taken the time to send reviews! You rule! --Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^* _

  


*****

I will be the Hunter, The noble Dragon.

Wufei eased himself around the corner of another dark hallway and motioned for Heero, the last person in the line, that all was clear. The base was located underground below a false government research lab in the Gobi desert, now abandoned and cold, left only to the devices of Black Hood's mechanised creations and biologically warped "watchdogs". Or so Dulcet had said, tersely murmuring to the five boys as they crept silently as cats from hall to hall, working their way into the centre core of the inner compound. So far, all Wufei had seen were hundreds of doors tacked onto miles of sterile, dim hallway, their monotony broken by the occasional security camera. Nonetheless, he stayed alert.

__

I shall be as the Dragon, merciless and majestic as I kill. None shall escape the bite of cruel death dealt by my hand. 

Walker, Darien, Kari and Ryu –or Serpent Team- were elsewhere, sweeping over the compound and would meet up with Dulcet and the boys –Gryphon Team- at the rendezvous point when the job was completed. Gryphon Team's objectives were simple: get in, destroy the holding room full of clones and then get the hell out of there and the leave the rest to Serpent Team. Simple. Cut and dry. But something still gnawed at Wufei's mind, something dark and elusive that fled when he tried to pin it down and think on it, but still remained, nonetheless. A feeling of foreshadowing, of horror yet to come. Something was about to happen. All hell was about to break loose and he and his comrades were to be stuck in the thick of it. Scowling, Wufei shook his head at his weakness, his loose hair brushing unnaturally at his cheeks. 

__

I am the Solitary Dragon! he reprimanded himself. _I will not be cowed by mere speculation!_

"Get ready, boys and girls," Dulcet murmured, bringing the line to a halt. His mind still wandering, Wufei walked into Quatre from behind. The Solitary Dragon noted absently that they had come to a huge metal door. Dulcet cracked his knuckles and pulled a length of cord with three plugs on it and a handheld computer from his pockets. "And now for your first lesson in Black Hood hacking." The lynx-man's pointed teeth gleamed like elongated pearls in the dim light as he grinned at them. He poked one plug from his cord into a port by the door, another into the handheld computer and the third into his temple, taking off his glasses and resting them nonchalantly on top of his head. The amber cat's eyes glazed over as he began wrestling with the security codes.

Mildly bored, Wufei let his eyes rove over the door. It was huge and shiny, surrounded with wide yellow signs reading "Warning: Restricted Area", "Authorised Personnel Only" "Clone Holding Area" and the ever reassuring "Trespassers Will Be Shot On Sight". 

Wufei smiled grimly and checked his sword in its sheath. _This could prove to be quite interesting._

Sidling back, Heero made his way over to stand next to Wufei. The others moved back as well, forming a group well away from Dulcet and the huge metal door.

"Does anyone else feel like this is a bad idea?" Duo murmured, unconsciously fluffing his bangs. Wufei smirked. The false breasts must have been getting to him. 

Quatre nodded, his face as pale as the spectre of death. "This place is wrong." His hands were trembling slightly. "It never should have existed. It…it's sick!"

Trowa silently put a comforting arm over his friend's shoulders, daring anyone to say something. Heero pursed his lips, fingering his fake scars. "Let's go over the plan again."

The others nodded, all eyes on Quatre's shaking form. 

"First, we get in, fan out and plant the explosives. Then we get out and Dulcet detonates it."

Trowa nodded. "Kaboom. And if there's some sort of resistance?"

"Neutralise it." Neutralise. In other words, kill without mercy.

__

"Password confirmed. Access granted."

"Come on in, boys and girls." Dulcet grinned. "Don't forget to wipe your feet on the way in!"

__

Good lord, he's actually enjoying _this!_ The foreshadowing feeling came again to Wufei as he girded himself, checked his weapons and stepped though.

*****

__

Those eyes… 

The first thing Quatre had noticed were the eyes. Deep sapphire blue and glittering emerald green. 

Walker's eyes. 

Darien's eyes. 

Unblinking clones' eyes.

And they were all watching him.

"Quatre," Heero murmured. "Stop staring. We have a mission to complete."

Quatre nodded. "Okay," he whispered. This whole place of starkness, of anticolour seemed to scream "_EVIL_!" in Quatre's sensitive empathic mind. Even where he stood, he could all but taste the residues of fear and pain mingled with sick elation. Picking up his charges, Quatre carefully began to lay them, trying to keep such thoughts from entering his mind. 

The room was twice as long as it was wide with two long rows of cylindrical rows of slender floor-to-ceiling cylindrical clone tanks, separated by a long aisle marked out in cautionary yellow. Walkers floated upright on one side and Dariens floated facing them on the other. Dulcet was parked in front of a control panel, his brain plugged in, his eyes glazed, monitoring the clones.

A blue-eyed, smooth-skinned Walker watched with almost sterile interest as Quatre attached the explosives to the front of its tank. He remembered what Dulcet had told them before. _"They have little to no thought process. They mimic, but they can't understand what it is they do. They watch, but can't truly see. They haven't got any souls."_

__

So I'm merely destroying machines. The clone put its palm against Quatre's over the clear plastic of its holding tank, pantomiming him and staring with empty eyes. 

"Don't choke, child," Zach buzzed from Quatre's earpiece. Quatre jumped. He had forgotten that the wizards were watching him back at the Keep. "They aren't capable of feeling pain. Just set the charges and get out of there." The old man's voice was kindly. "You can do it, child."

The Gentle Noble simply swallowed and moved over to another holding tube. 

"Hey!" Dulcet called, making everyone else in the room jump. "Are you guys done yet?"

Their spell of silence shattered, the boys stopped gazing at the clones and turned back to the task at hand.

"Almost."

"Serpent Team will arrive at your destination in approximately four minutes," Talon buzzed over the assembled earpiece speakers. "Prepare to detonate in five minutes." 

"Roger that." Dulcet plucked the cord from his temple and plugged his glasses back in. "Five minutes to fireworks, kids."

__

Five minutes. Quatre moved his hand on the clear plastic wall of the holding tank. The clone moved its palm as well, keeping it under Quatre's. Gently, Quatre burrowed into the clone's psyche and noted with a mix of relief and horror that it had none. _It's like killing something that's already dead._

Trowa came then, laying a hand on Quatre's shoulder, making him jump. "Come on," the taller boy said, thin tendrils of gel-stiffened hair already beginning to escape his elastic. He brushed them irritably from his eyes. "Serpent Team is outside. We're leaving."

"Yeah." Quatre got up off his knees and suddenly stiffened. "Something's here." He took his hand from the tank wall. The clone didn't move. "It's watching us."

Trowa frowned. "Could it possibly be the clones?"

"Not a chance."

Emerald eyes narrowed. "Tell Dulcet."

Quatre shook his head. "He already knows. I can tell." He pulled the gun from his thigh holster. Trowa did the same. The others already had their own guns out and ready. Years of training had left their mark on the boys and now it spoke to them. "It's coming for us."

"Boys!" Gil shouted then, his voice tinnily loud over the earpiece speakers. "Get away from there!" 

It was then that they saw the crack wending its way slowly up the nearest wall. Sounds came in from behind it. Scuffling sounds. Picking sounds.

__

Pick, pick.

The crack grew. The sounds within quickened in eager anticipation. 

Dulcet moaned. "Shiiit," he breathed. "So the rumours were true."

"What rumours?" Duo asked, his voice terse, his gun trained on a spot on the crack in the wall. 

The crack slowly became a miniature crevice. Something mildew-grey and moist poked briefly through. Mad slavering was heard within. 

"The ones about the products of Black Hood's chemical necromancy." Dulcet said, pulling his own gun.

"Can we not run for it?" Quatre asked. Wufei looked sharply at him, as though the word "run" was a slight to manly honour everywhere.

Dulcet shook his head. "According to the rumour, they can hear a heartbeat from a half mile away. They'll know where we are and will hunt us down when we tire. We need to detonate the bulk of them and then get the hell out of here.

Quatre trained his ability. "Serpent Team is outside the door," he reported.

"Right then, aim for the head." Dulcet pulled the detonator from his pocket, holding it ready. "Flee at my command."

Then the wall exploded and the world went straight to hell, as animated corpses burst through, mildew grey and pus white, moaning and slavering. Stiff legged, they lurched towards the group, eyes rotted away, skin peeling like gruesome rags from shockingly white bone.

Dulcet fired the first shot, exploding the head of an animated corpse, making it drop. Immediately, more shots rang out, dropping the undead left and right. Soon, spent clips littered the floor, but the undead still poured forth from the wall in a seemingly endless stream.

"_GO_!!!" Dulcet screamed and the boys turned and sprinted from the room, Dulcet bringing up the rear, shooting over his shoulder. They sped past Serpent Team who joined them in their frenzied run, Walker springing easily along on all fours like some great mountain cat. Cursing the name of Black Hood, Dulcet detonated the charges, sending a globe of hellish flame licking at their backs. Keening shrills came from the undead trapped in the room, but still more came, charred, flaming and virtually skinless bodies emerging as demons from the inferno.

"Make for the way we came in!" Ryu shouted, his voice made thick from the smoke. "Once we're out, we can set off the rest of this place!"

__

Ah, so that's what they've been doing, Quatre though fleetingly as miles of hallway flashed relentlessly by and behind them the undead still staggered on.

Abruptly, Walker skidded to a stop, his clawed feet digging thin furrows into the cement floor, a strange look in his tawny eyes. The animated corpses were far off , but only for a scant moment.

"She's here." His voice was cracked with something. Fear, perhaps?

Darien actually blanched. "No," he said, backing away. "She can't be. Not here."

"Who?" demanded Duo.

"Our mother," 

"What, Mrs. Broman?"

"_No_, dipshit," Darien said witheringly. Fear or no, he apparently wasn't in the mood to tolerate stupidity. "Our biological mother. The Succubus Project. We can feel her presence in the building."

****

Shit. That means Black Hood knew we were coming here. Kari spat, narrowing her ghostly white eyes. **The whole thing was a hoax.**

Behind them, the sound of dogged pursuit grew steadily louder.

"We need to get out of here," Ryu said coldly. "If we see the Succubus Project, then we have no choice but to just run faster. By no means are we able to fight her."

The twins nodded in unison, their faces still pale, and again they began to run. The others followed them, all of them furiously praying not to meet the Succubus Project that had left the Broman brothers so terrified.

Their prayers were left unanswered.

She came as they rounded a corner towards a foyer a mere thirty feet from the exit, reeking of rotted meat and stinking of blood. She stood fully eleven feet tall, stripped of all skin do that only wet, glistening, putrid sinew showed. Bony spinal projections like huge skeleton fingers jutted from her back, opening and closing convulsively. With a deafening roar, she bared wrist-thick, jagged teeth oozing with lines of thick saliva. Its claws, each a foot long or more rent the air as her spinal projections convulsed again, sending her long, grotesque parodies of female breasts shuddering. Her bulk was massive and it took up the whole foyer, closing off the only exit route. Even the undead refused to go any further with this beast in the way.

With terrifying speed, the Succubus Project sprang, scattering the group. Shots were fired and easily shrugged off as the beast lurched forward, its piggish eyes intent on fresh kill. Walker and Darien leapt on her, metal claws rending and screaming over bone, but were effortlessly shaken off. Ryu leapt next, but thick teeth sank deep into his shoulder, stopped only by bone that could not break and he was flung into the wall, his head making a sickening noise as he connected. 

Swinging its mighty arm, the Succubus Project knocked the ex-pilots from their feet, scattering them like dolls. Kari, now the only one left standing, tried to see the Succubus Project to attack, but the monster flung about so much errant heat residue that it made it impossible to see the beast herself. All Kari saw was a seemingly empty room draped fully over in bright sheets of discarded body heat and nothing more. Snarling, the monster leapt, her arms held out wide to receive its new prey. Helpless and blind, Kari had not choice but to stand and accept her fate.

A primal scream cut through the air then, and Kari found herself knocked violently to the floor, her sunglasses knocking themselves from her head. The monster roared once in triumph and Kari heard it bound away, more roars ringing though the halls.

Kari blinked, adjusting her eyes as the source of heat departed and the room slowly cooled, dissolving the sheets of heat that had blinded her. The others collected themselves and those who could were already healing themselves. She scanned the foyer, watching the bodies before her, bright smudges of heat and adrenaline move before her. Quickly she counted them, assigning names to the familiar body shapes. Her heart sunk. Of the ten people who had gone into the raid, one of them, Chang Wufei, was gone.

_ **Looking up at last line**   
  
A cliffhanger. Well, well, I had no idea I was such a cruel authoress. Well, if you send me reviews, I just might post the next chapter sooner! ;p   
  
Ja ne, minna-san!   
  
--L.P.D. *//.^*_

*****


	16. Mother Dearest

_*Sigh* Labour day. Tomorrow I have to go back to school. Why can't summer last forever like it's supposed to? --Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*_

*****

*****

Walker got to his feet, swearing at the top of his lungs. He could see the exit to the desert before him, but he knew he couldn't in good conscience go through._ Dammit!_ They had been so close! The tossed the detonator to Ryu, whose shoulder was almost done healing. "Get the others to the Jeep," the Lord of Alaryan's Keep said. "Wait there for Darien and I for no more than ten minutes. If we don't come out by then, blast this hellhole and go on home without us."

Ryu nodded and collected Dulcet, the stricken ex-pilots and the white-faced Kari. "Be careful, friends," he warned and they left, leaving Walker and Darien alone to stalk the Succubus Project. 

*****

Meat kill blood good.

Wufei suppressed a whimper as the Succubus Project cast her thoughts at him while loping down identical miles of corridor. He moaned as the beast shifted him in its grasp, piercing his skin with her dagger-like claws and took a sharp corner. 

****

Boy-thing good meat good blood taste like sweet. 

The biological mother of the Broman twins hissed in primal delight and ran its sharply rough tongue down the curve of Wufei's throat. Gasping at the fetid stench of the putrid creature's mouth, Wufei's stomach heaved and he vomited on the quickly passing lengths of floor.

*****_  
_

"Darien! Take a look at this." Walker pointed to a discoloured puddle on the floor. Gingerly, he held a hand over it a moment. "Still warm. They're close."

"Yeah, but it looks like they're going fast." Darien indicated the thin, spattered pattern on the floor. Without another word, they took off, Darien on two legs, Walker on four. "You be stealth, I'll be offence!" Darien shouted, and Walker veered off, leaving his brother to run on alone.

The Succubus Project was close. He could feel the vibrations her heaving bulk made as she ran and the booming thuds she made every now and then when she pulled herself into a halt. Muffled shouts also came, defiant and loud, but clearly afraid.

_Ah, so Wufei's still alive. That's a plus. _

Darien burst into the closed-off room the Succubus Project apparently used as a lair just as the monster was beginning slice off Wufei's body armour with a single claw. Broken casks lay everywhere and the fetid stench of hazardous chemicals hung like a pall over the entire room. Fleetingly, Darien caught sight of the fragmented words "angerously flamm" on a broken cask before the Succubus Project heaved itself in front of him.

Darien kicked himself then, realising that he had no idea what he was going to do next. His ammo was gone and he had no matches, no lighter, nothing that could set off the dangerous fluids that covered the floor. Normally, he would have used his elemental powers, but this Black Hood base had an anti-magic barrier, so his gift was useless. He sensed Walker stalking unseen in the shadows and knew his situation must be the same. And through all this, Wufei watched him, wide-eyed, his face bathed in blood. _Please,_ those onyx eyes seemed to say. _Help me. _Furiously, Darien began to search the barrier for holes.

The beast snarled and hauled Wufei up by the throat, swinging him like a rag doll. **Man-thing move, boy-thing die, **it promised in Darien's mind.

_Now what? _Darien looked harder, faster, Wufei's scared eyes watching him all the while. Finally, he found whathe had been looking for, a minuscule give in the barrier, but it was all he needed. 

"Walker!" he screamed, letting sparks fly from his fingertips. Walker darted past, snatching Wufei and was gone before the first spark hit the floor, Darien not far behind as they made for the exit. 

Back at the Succubus Project's lair, the roar of the fire coupled with that of the burning monster shook the rafters as instantly the flames found more and more ground.

*****

__

Please, just let them all be alive. 

Kari clasped her hands over her breast and closed her eyes, her mind filled with thoughts of the Broman brothers and Wufei. _He saved you,_ a wretched voice said within her. _And you had vowed to make him pay. You thought him to be soft_.

__

Shut up.

You killed him. 

__

NO!! 

_Yes._

Sudden, kind hands took Kari's shoulders. Trowa, his hair free of the elastic but still slicked back, pulled her close into a comforting hug. Kari immediately went stiff. From where she stood, she noted the back of Trowa's neck had gone hot again. A silent sob escaped her lips. Trowa hugged her harder, burying her face into his leather-clad shoulder. 

"Hey," he said softly. "You did all you could."

**Yeah.** _Just hold me. I don't want to think anymore._

"Eight minutes," Ryu said from the Jeep.

"He went down like a fighter," Trowa said, stroking Kari's soft blonde hair. Her braided bun had come loose in their flight, spilling a long braid down to the small of her back. Even hot and sweaty as she was, Trowa noticed she still managed to smell good. "He would have wanted to go this way. With honour."

**Yeah.**_ Just let me stay here. Don't talk anymore._ Slowly, slowly, she reached out and wrapped her arms around Trowa's neck, pulling herself in closer. Gently, he buried his face in her hair.

"Kari, I-"

****

Hush. Don't talk. Just let me stay here a while. 

Trowa wrapped her his arms around her even tighter. "Of course." _Forever._

"It's them!!" Dulcet shouted, pointing to a set of figures moving towards them from the base. Darien and Walker, who carried a limp Wufei like a giant baby in his arms. Darien waved cheerfully at them. Dulcet sighed in obvious relief. "They're okay!"

"Hallelujah!!" Nat crowed over Trowa and Kari's earpeices. The sounds of the other wizards' cheering came in behind him.

"Heeeey!" Darien came up to them first, grinning like a maniac. "He's a bit banged around and bloodied, but I think our boy Wufei will be alright." He nodded to Ryu and then to the "research facility". "Make it go 'boom'. I want to go home."

Ryu nodded and pulled out the trigger, but stopped at the last moment. "Here." He tossed it to Heero. "You do it."

Heero smiled faintly and held it out and away from his body in that all-too familiar pose. The others held their breaths and watched, Kari and Trowa still wrapped in each other's arms.

"Mission…complete."

And with that, he hit the trigger.

*****

_Later, minna-san!   
  
--L.P.D. *//.^*_


	17. Aletha the Ripper

*****

_First week back at school. Back to the grindstone. Yay. At least I don't have to worry about having time to write! All's I need is a suitably mind-numbingly dull class and a notebook to keep me going!!! Just don't tell this to my teachers... --Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*   
  
Although I'm constantly forgetting to say so, I don't own Gundam Wing. A corporation who could easily afford to hire very large goons to beat the daylights out of me and burn my house down if I decide to call GW mine owns it. Everything else in this story, however, is mineminemineminemine!!!!!! So no stealy-stealy!_

*****

"She wants to see you, you know."

Wufei looked up from his soup, wincing at the sudden, previously unknown pain in his neck. Trowa handed him another ice pack, but it was waved away. "What do you mean?"

"Kari. She's worried about you."

Wufei snorted. The raid had been a week ago and since then he had been in bed, nursing numerous bumps and bruises and a few choice gashes. Everyone had seen him at least once, with the exception of Kari. She hadn't come to see him even once. "Bullshit. If she's so worried about me, then why is she so dead set against coming here and telling me herself?" He sat back, satisfied. He sat back up in a flash, however, the numerous cuts and gashes on his back complaining about being pressed against the headboard.

Trowa rolled his eyes. "Because she feels humiliated. She thinks she failed the mission." He pursed his lips. "Kind of like a certain pilot I used to know."

"Ah." Wufei took a spoonful soup, blowing softly on it to cool it. "Send her in, then."

*****

Knock, knock. 

It was barely audible.   
"Come in!" Wufei called, and then cursed as a white hot twinge of pain shot up his chest. 

The door opened and slowly Kari let herself in, quietly shutting the door after herself. Fiddling nervously with the thought-speech jewel she wore on the chain around her neck, she didn't come any closer, reminding Wufei sharply of a cornered animal.

****

Did you want to see me?

Wufei nodded and beckoned to her. "Come over here. I won't bite," he said kindly.

Warily, she crept to the chair by Wufei's bed and eased herself into it. Wufei noted she had left off her blindfold today. In what he hoped was a friendly manner, he gestured to a basket on the bedside table which was full of crackers, cookies, fruit, dried meat and cheese. "Help yourself. The kids in my homeroom sent it to me." He grinned. "They think I fell down the stairs while carrying a couple of empty wine bottles."

Gingerly, Kari selected an oatmeal cookie, nibbling at it, taking miniscule bites. **Thank you.**

"You're a guest. It's the least I can do." Wufei smiled and helped himself to a spice cracker. "I save your life _and_ I give you a cookie. Quite the sweet deal, eh?" He laughed and took a bite of his cracker, forgetting about the one tooth that had been knocked loose. He clapped a hand to his cheek, cursing loudly.

Kari smiled softly.** Two favors for nothing. A sweet deal indeed.**

The conversation died a moment, as the both of them realised they weren't really saying anything. After a while of sitting in uncomfortable silence, Kari set down her cookie. **I just wanted to thank you for saving my life. I owe you one. **She stood and made to leave.

"You owe me nothing!" Wufei shouted at her back, making her stop and turn, her alabaster eyes narrowing. "A true gentleman does not accept payment for his actions," he explained.

****

I thought you earlier to be a spoiled child, Kari admitted, making her way back to her chair by the bed. **I see I may have been wrong.**

Wufei nodded slowly. "Perhaps. I'd say I've had a pretty tough life."

**Join the club.** Kari ate the rest of her cookie and reached for an apple. She bit into it and licked daintily at her lips with the tip of her tongue. **My life wasn't a good one, either.**

"Yeah?" Wufei sat gingerly back. "If I tell my story, will you tell yours?"

Kari sat back as well, still chewing. **You first.**

"Fair enough. At the age of thirteen, I was wed to a girl I had never met named Long Meiran." Wufei smiled wryly. "She insisted on being called Nataku after a warrior woman of legend. She was a soldier, I a scholar in training and a pacifist, if you can believe that. We lived almost as brother and sister for a year. We fought often and bitter words were almost all that we said to each other." He shook his head. "In hindsight, I suppose we both could have tried harder to make it work, but we were both too stubborn. By the time I realised that I had at least some feelings for her, it was far too late." 

**What happened to her?**

"She was killed in battle. I found her and she drew her last breath in my arms. After that, I took up her mantle and became a soldier myself, slowly losing myself in an obsession with fighting and war. To avoid the disgrace of being captured by the enemy, my entire clan destroyed themselves and the place of my birth, making me an orphan at the age of fifteen. After the war ended, I floated around, a soldier without a war. I ended up falling into a militant order which was bent on reviving the very war I had fought to end. The ideals of the order ended up forcing me to fight against my friends and only before Heero almost ended his life –again- I realised what I was doing was stupid. I then became a Preventer – a sort of policeman- until the day I came here."

Kari nodded slowly. **I see. **She folded her hands demurely in her lap.** I suppose it's my turn, then. I was born in a Detroit branch base of Black Hood to a woman known as "Aletha the Render". She is a high-ranking officer of the entire Black Hood corporation, second only to the CEO himself. Among other things, she is in charge of the Ring, assassinations, and shall I say "harsh discipline". The only difference between her and other officers is that she loves what she does. Lives it. Revels in it. **Kari swallowed. **Aletha's name is feared all over Black Hood inner society. She prowls the halls in dyed black outfits made of the hides of the freaks that couldn't meet her insane standards. She carries a studded whip and she's been known to kill without the slightest provocation.**

"And your father?" Wufei asked quietly.

****

He was killed right after she learned she was pregnant with me. He'd served his use, so she killed him and feasted on him for days afterwards. 

"Ah." Wufei set down his half-eaten cracker, no longer hungry. 

**As soon as I could walk, I was surgically enhanced as Walker and Darien were and then I was sent off to train as a Ring fighter. At the age of five or so, my training was completed and I was sent off to the Ring. I averaged a kill a day until the day I turned twelve.**

"And then?"

**Aletha decided** **I was pretty. She had me stripped of my daggers and had me made into a Wife.**

Wufei looked at her in surprise. "You were married as well?"

**No. "Wife" is the word Black Hood slang uses to refer to the human female equivalent of public property. **Her smooth face darkened. **Suddenly I belonged to everyone.**

Gazing at the beautiful face before him, Wufei realised with a start that Kari looked like she was about to cry. "Say no more about that," he said gently. Not having anything to console her with, he did the best he could with what he had and handed her another cookie. "Here."

****

Thank you. I stayed a Wife for about a year until I became unfit to be one. I'll show you.

Squirming a little, Kari began to pull off her sweater. Alarmed, Wufei turned away. _Rather forward, isn't she?_ he thought to himself.

**Look at me.**

"I'd really rather not." _I thought she liked Trowa!!_

**I'm wearing a shirt underneath, Wufei,** Kari said tiredly. **Calm down. You're not _that_ irresistible.**

Slowly, Wufei turned back to look at her. Kari wore a white sleeveless shirt with a scoop neck that left a large portion of her throat and shoulders bare, not to mention all of both arms. Without thinking, Wufei reached out and touched a fingertip to a small part of the forest of black-stained scars that crisscrossed her milky skin. Immediately Kari jerked away.

**One of the men – an officer I was sent to serve- did that to me. **She shrugged an ivory-pale shoulder.** He said later that he was just bored. The black stain in my skin is called Compound Grey. He rubbed it in after cutting me to make it scar and poured the rest of it into my eyes. I was robbed of my beauty and so was sent back to face the horrors of the Ring.**

"I see." Actually, Wufei didn't see what the problem was. From what he saw, Kari was an exceptionally beautiful girl.

****

I was picked up when I was fourteen during a Keep raid and the rest is history.

"Does the Compound Grey hurt you?" Wufei asked gently, watching Kari wriggle back into her sweater. 

Kari shrugged.** Headaches on occasion from light sensitivity brought on by the Compound Grey in my eyes. That's one reason I wear the blindfold.**

"Ah." Wufei nodded sleepily and yawned. When did he get so sleepy? He tried to say something more, but the next yawn came and almost split his head in two.

**Wufei?**

"Hmmmm?"

A slight blush crept up her cheeks. **Would you…would you…tell Trowa what I told you? For me?**

__

Thematchmaker delivering a message to the fair maid's sweetheart. The Solitary Dragon smiled as Kari left her seat and strode to the door. 

**Sleep well, Wufei.**

The smile became a grin. "Sleep well, Kari."

*****

_ Awww, how sweet.   
  
Wufei: *scowls* Why did the monster have to pick _ me_ for chewing on?  
  
That's funny, as I recall, you jumped into her path to save the fair damsel in distress.  
  
Wufei: *blushes* Kari's fully capable of pulling my arms off without any real effort. I seriously doubt she qualifies as a damsel in distress.  
  
Heh, heh, "women are weak", eh, Wufei?  
  
Wufei: Shut up. And stop fluttering your eyelashes at me, woman!  
  
Whatever. Anyway, minna-san, don't forget to review!! --L.P.D. *//.^*  
  
Wufei: *sweatdrops* Uhm, who exactly are you talking to?  
  
_


	18. Shinigami-kun

***** __

Hello, all! Just a small warning for the stuff up ahead. Majour **normal_** teenage sitations here. No scary monsters, no blood, no violence. I'm very ashamed of myself. Anyhoo, it'll only take a while and then I'll be back to my normal humorous-angsty self. Don't worry, it should be painless. ;p --Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*_

_Despite my best efforts, I still do not own Gundam Wing._

*****

"Forget it, Trowa. I already told you a hundred times I don't want to go." Quatre sighed, running his fingers through his hair. It had taken about six hours of washing the night after the Black Hood raid, but it had come out eventually. Presently, he and Trowa were shoving their way through the crowds of students clogging the halls of St. Mark's school, trying to get to the drink machine at lunch. "Just go without me and have a good time. I'd just get in the way"

Trowa rolled his eyes. _Again with the fifth wheel argument._ The October semi-formal dance was in less than two weeks and no matter how much he tried, he couldn't get Quatre to agree to going. For the first time in longer than he could remember, Trowa was actually excited about something. After what seemed like about seven straight hours of Relena and Cathy bugging him, he had asked Kari to go with him. She had said she needed to think about it and after a nerve-wracking hour, Kari had come shyly to him and said "yes". This had led to him walking out into the forest, turning cartwheels and backflips for the better part of a half-hour and then walking sedately back into the house for dinner. And now the only thing that would make the whole thing complete was if Quatre went as well. Pausing in front of the machine to dig out some change, Trowa suddenly wondered when he had begun thinking like a normal teenager. 

"Why don't you want to go?" Trowa asked as they made their way outside. _The days are getting shorter,_ he noted, pulling up the collar of his uniform sweatshirt. Cheap though they were, they still managed at times to be almost warm. 

Quatre sipped at his bottled water. "I'd need a date." 

Trowa laughed. "In other words, you're shy."

The Gentle Noble paused in mid step a moment. "Yeah. Guess so."

"Well…" Trowa sipped his Coke. "Just go with Cathy. I'm sure she won't mind.'

"_What_!?" 

"Why not?" Trowa caught Quatre's look. "Come on, it's not slow torture. Besides, there's no rule saying you need to bring a date in the first place."

"I just don't want to go. I'm too shy to ask a girl I don't know out and I'd feel stupid hanging around all by myself." The wind ruffled his straw-blond hair. "Are you giving this same treatment to Wufei?"

__

BBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNGGGGGG!!!!

First bell. Lunch was now over.

"Tried it. He says it's not right to dishonor Meiran's name by going out with another girl."

"Ahh," was all Quatre could say as they made their way back into the school.

Having only about thirty seconds before having to break off and go to Religion class, Trowa felt he had no choice but to pull his trump card: shameless guilt-tripping. "Please come, Quatre. It'd be nothing without you there. You're my best friend and I'd love to see you there."

Quatre seemed to wrestle within himself. It was guilt versus loyalty and judging by the look on the shorter boy's face, Trowa knew immediately that he had won. "Okay," Quatre said at length. "I'll go."

Trowa grinned. "Great! We'll have fun, I promise."

"Okay. See you on the bus. Trowa."

"See you, Quatre."

*****

"…and the typical Athenian education was based on studies of the arts and philosophy, while the Spartan education was based on…anybody?"

Misty raised her hand. "Tactics and warfare?"

"That is correct Miss Broman."

Misty smiled. Out of the entire semester so far, Civil History had quickly become her favorite class. She peeked over at Duo, who sat beside her. He grinned back and gave her the thumbs up. Then he nodded at her desk. Misty looked down. On it was a neatly folded scrap of lined paper, probably tossed there while she was answering Mr. O'Flaherty's question. Furtively, she picked up the note and read it:

__

Hey, are you going to the semi-formal? –Duo

Misty jotted down "_maybe_" on it and handed it back when Mr. O'Flaherty's back was turned. Duo scribbled something and resumed looking totally innocent as Mr. O'Flaherty strode by before handing it back over to Misty.

__

Got a date?

"…so naturally, the Spartan's looked down on the Athenians with contempt and vice versa…"

Misty shook her head no.

This made Duo grin. He poked himself in the chest and then pointed at her in a sort of "you and me?" gesture. 

Misty smiled and nodded. Well, why not? After all Kari and Trowa were going, so maybe they could make it a double date or something. And it would make those Federation for Human Purity girls who were mooning over Duo simply _livid_ with envy. "Okay," she whispered.

Another note hit her desk then, but from another direction. Confused, Misty opened it and read:

__

You and Mr. Maxwell see me after class. Love, Mr. O'Flaherty.

Misty looked slowly up to see Mr. O'Flaherty, and the rest of the Civil History class staring at her and Duo. A deep rosy blush lit up her face as Mr. O'Flaherty said something about love connections being appropriate outside of class time and went on with the lesson. Groaning softly, Misty put her head on her desk.

_Dammit…_

*****

When everyone came home from school that day, they arrived to find Belle and Cathy in jeans and a pair of Gil's old shirts, kneeling in front of the woodstove in the kitchen. There was a poker in Cathy's hand and both of them were covered in soot. Sensing the group behind her, Belle stood, smiling cheerfully. Cathy followed, idly fingering the pointed end of the poker.

"With the cool weather coming we decided it would be a good idea to fire up the woodstove," she explained, catching the round of bewildered looks. "But I heard something, probably a bird, fluttering around in the pipe. So we're trying to get it out." Belle touched her cheek, an act that ended up smearing it more with soot. "Poor thing is completely terrified and keeps sticking itself further up the pipe."

Cathy patted Trowa on the back, stamping a black handprint onto his sweatshirt. "You try getting it out, Trowa. You've always had a good rapport with animals."

Trowa shrugged and got down on one knee in front of the cold iron stove. Carefully, he opened the grate and reached his hand in, motioning with the other for silence from the group standing behind him trying better to see. Slowly, he reached up, making whatever it was flutter all the more in terror. A look of concentration crossed his face and his shoulder jerked suddenly as he shot his hand up the stovepipe and grabbed the thing inside, making it squeal. Carefully, he pulled his hand out and cupped the other one over it, smiling faintly all the while. 

"I got i-GAAH!" Trowa's hand jerked and something small and black and chittering zipped from them, whipping around the kitchen far faster than any mere bird.

"What the hell is that!?" Duo shouted as it shot past his face, the wind of its close passing making his bangs flutter. 

"I don't know," Trowa admitted, clutching his hand. "But it managed to cut me."

Like the crack of a whip, Wufei's hand shot out and he grabbed a flyswatter from atop the fridge, wound up, and….

_SMACK!!!_

"Yeeeeeeek!!!!" the thing shrieked and dropped onto the table. Immediately, Relena dropped a nearby spaghetti strainer over it, creating a makeshift prison.

As one body, they all stared into the strainer.

The thing inside stared back, its face screwed up into a tiny scowl. The tiny creature was about two inches tall, humanoid and, judging by its appearance, male. He had stubby limbs and big feet, which were shaking with pent-up adrenaline. Tiny bat wings sprouted from his back and he wore a miniscule suit of black clothing, complete with a black baseball cap. But it was the minute –no pun intended- details that caught the group's attention; namely the sooty clergical collar around his neck, the tiny scythe now stained lightly with Trowa's blood clutched in its diminutive fists and the long brown hair gathered into a tight braid. The effect was of a travel-size version of Duo Maxwell.

Wufei backed away in what almost looked like fear. "No…. Oh, noooo…. Not another one!" He grabbed the flyswatter. "Just let me stun it and we can dump it off somewhere in the woods."

"Wufei!" Relena admonished him. She took the flyswatter and handed it to Kari. "Look, you've scared the poor little guy." Indeed, the little Duo copy had dropped his scythe and was shaking like a leaf. He backed away from Wufei's hard gaze and looked around the spaghetti strainer for a place to hide. Relena pulled it off and carefully picked up the tiny Duo copy, cradling the quaking body close. "Hello there, little one," she said softly, running a calming finger up and down his back. "What's you're name?"

"Shi-Shinigami-kun." The voice was like a young child's falsetto version of Duo's. "I'm a reaper."

"Oooh, shit." Wufei lowered himself into a chair. "It even speaks."

Shinigami-kun stuck his tongue out at the Solitary Dragon and blew a high-pitched raspberry at him. "Jerk!"

Gently Belle took the tiny reaper from Relena and with a fingertip began to stroke his head. Shinigami-kun grinned and leaned into it. "I have heard of this kind of thing before, though I've never seen it before today," she murmured. "A bundle of magical fallout created by a large group of people –in this case, you- coming through the Bond."

"So, this is a magical mistake, then," Cathy surmised, tapping her chin.

"Am not!"

"Well, I for one think this little guy is cool." Duo grinned. "Wait until Misty sees him!"

Shinigami-kun peered up at his full-sized counterpart through chocolate coloured bangs. "Who's Misty?"

"My…uhm…." Duo's face turned deep crimson. "My…friend."

Quatre approached the table with a piece of peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his hand. Careful not to scare him, he presented it to Shinigami-kun. "Are you hungry?" the Gentle Noble asked.

Shinigami-kun answered by grabbing the sandwich hunk and gobbling it down, getting more than enough PB and J on himself in the process. He smacked his lips appreciatively and rubbed his tiny belly. "Ummmm, that was good!"

Relena smiled and pulled a Wet Nap from her bag. "You're all sticky now." Here," she ripped open the package and handed the moist towellette to Shinigami-kun, who simply stared at it in bewilderment. "You wipe your face and fingers with it to get them clean."

"But, lady," Shinigami-kun said sadly, "I don't have fingers. I only have mittens." He held up his hands, which were indeed mitten shaped. He pouted at Relena. "Now what?"

Relena smiled gently at him. "Just try your best, okay?"

The pout melted and Shinigami-kun grabbed the towellette –which was more like a beach towel to him- and vigorously began to scrub his hands and face, smearing soot all over the previously white Wet Nap. 

"I believe that will be enough for now," Belle said firmly. "Duo, will you please give our sooty guest a bath?" It was a firm request rather than a question. "The rest of you go change and get a start on your homework before dinner." She held up a soot-stained hand to fend off the sudden onslaught of complaints. "Enough. Now scoot!"

*****

_Hey, just a couple of words about the latest addition to the group, Shinigami-kun. Shinigami-kun was created by a doujinshi artist named Mato, so needless to say, he's not mine. Also, you might want to look around the net to find some pics of him, or better yet, scans of the original doujinshi. Personally, I think it's well worth the looking; Shi-kun is hilarious and just so damn kawaii!  
  
Ja ne!  
  
--L.P.D. *//.^*_


	19. He says, she says

Okay, all so maybe this romance thing will be little bit longer than I'd anticipated __

Okay, all so maybe this romance thing will be little bit longer than I'd anticipated. Sue me. I'm trying to make it as short as I can, but it's tough! Be patient. The action is coming soon. –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

I don't own Gundam Wing, Shinigami-kun or Wal-mart. Wal-mart isn't actually mentioned in this story, but one can never be too thorough, ne?

*****

"You like her, don't you?" Cathy's voice held a note of smugness and her face was triumphant. Duo, who had Shinigami-kun in his hands, merely looked at her like she was insane.

"Are you nuts or something? I have no idea what you're talking about." Duo pushed open the door to the upstairs bathroom and deposited his sooty charge next to the sink.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Cathy leaned against the door. "Duhhh, genius…. _Misty_." 

"No way! She and I are just friends!" Red-faced, Duo waved his hands in front of himself like he was trying to shove the notion away. "We're buds! Chums! Cronies, even!" 

Cathy shot him one of those Looks women are so good at using on men.

Duo sighed. "Oh man, is it really that obvious?"

"_Pain_fully obvious."

"Geez." His blush still firmly in place, the Great Shinigami pulled a facecloth, a bottle of shampoo, and some liquid soap from under the sink. Glumly, he sat on the closed toilet and watched Shinigami-kun poke curiously at the bottles with the butt of his scythe. "D'you think she, maybe, like, I dunno…like me back?" 

"Brother, if you're anything like me, then you're a shoo in!" Shinigami-kun squealed from under the washcloth. "Face it, bub, we're both adorable!"

Duo grinned. "Can't argue there." He noticed then that Shinigami had pulled off his hat and shoes and was working on his shirt, which was quite the chore, seeing as he had a relatively huge melon head, barely any arms and a pair of wings to work around. "Ah, Cathy?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you mind leaving me and Shinigami-kun alone for a while?" The rosy blush that had finally left Duo's face quickly returned with a holy vengeance. "He looks like me, you see and with him having to get naked and all…" He trailed off, leaving the rest to Cathy's imagination.

To his irritation, she began to laugh. "Okay, okay," she said, catching Duo's irritated look. "I have to get ready for work tonight anyway." 

"Where do you work?" Shinigami-kun asked, his voice muffled by his shirt, which still refused to go over his head.

"Just a drugstore downtown."

"Do you like it there?" With a grunt, Shinigami-kun gave a great yank and finally got his shirt off. Sighing, he leaned over to go to work on his pants, but was immediately stopped by a red-faced Duo.

"Yeah, I guess. It's not the circus, but it's okay." Cathy made a face. "My boss is a pervert, though." 

"Oh, really?" A dangerous glint entered Duo's eyes. "What's his name?"

"Don't even think about it, Duo Maxwell," Cathy admonished. "He hasn't tried anything –yet. And if he does, then his ass is all_ mine_." On that thought, she left the bathroom, leaving Duo and Shinigami-kun alone. 

Muttering various colourful words about women in general under his breath, Duo plugged the sink and let it fill, not trusting the size of the whirlpool bath as something safe for someone who could easily fit in a teacup. He squirted in some liquid soap and moodily watched the water froth and foam. Shinigami-kun watched this happen in what could only be called supreme awe. Finally, Duo tossed in a clean sponge for the tiny reaper to float on. 

"Go on, buddy." Duo nodded at the sink. "She's all yours."

Not to be told twice, Shinigami-kun stripped off his pants, undid his sooty braid and jumped in, leaving Duo to sit on the closed toilet and brood. 

__

So, Cathy knows I've got a thing for Misty. So what? Duo blew out his bangs with a gusty sigh. _It's not like that's a huge crime or something. I'm allowed. And she said she'd go with me to the semi-formal. Maybe that means she likes me back or something._

But what if she knew my past? Would she even be my friend if she knew what I've done?

Calm down, Shinigami. Just let the past go.

Sighing again, Duo watched his tiny friend paddle around the sink, his chin resting in his hands. Presently, Shinigami-kun got bored with swimming and hoisted himself onto the edge of the sponge, kicking his tiny feet and looking up at Duo through drippy bangs. 

"Duo?" Shinigami-kun asked.

"Yeah?"

"What's Misty like?" 

Duo smiled. "Well, she's short-"

"Like me?"

"Uh, not quite." He thought of Misty's tiny frame, barely hitting four-foot-eleven. "Close, though. She has short red hair and green eyes and these really small hands and-"

"Is she pretty?" interrupted Shinigami-kun for the second time. 

Duo's smile became a wide grin. "Yeah, she's really pretty. And fun, too. And she's a bard."

"So?" Shinigami-kun grabbed the corner of the facecloth on the counter, dunked it in the bath water, and vigorously used it to investigate the contents of one ear. "What's a bard?"

"Uh…it's kinda like a musical magician. Misty can use any singing voice –or voices- she wants and she can play any instrument she can get her hands on."

"Like your heartstrings?" Shinigami-kun asked slyly.

"Hey, shut up!" Since when did magical fallout get so cocky? Duo flicked the sponge, making Shinigami-kun fall squealing into the soapy water.

*****

"You like him, don't you?" Cathy smirked as Misty's gaze fell involuntarily on the counter at Cathy's till. It was about seven o'clock at the drugstore where Cathy worked and Misty was there, doing some last minute makeup shopping for herself and the rest of the girls before the semi-formal. Cathy scanned in another tube of lipstick and sing-songed: "You like Duu-o Maa-axwell!"

"I do not!" Misty cried as Cathy rang more items through, still smirking. "I mean, what with Keep business, and my studies and homework and Walker's plague and-"

"He likes you back, you know."

Misty's eyes grew as wide as saucers. "No way!"

"Yes way." Cathy hit a few buttons on the till. "That's twenty-five thirty eight altogether."

Misty fumbled a ten and a twenty from her wallet and slapped them onto the till. "Did he say so?"

Cathy nodded. 

Misty's smile nearly took in her eyes. "All riiiiiiight!" she whooped, pumping her fist in the air. The man being rung in at the next till shot her an alarmed look and before grabbing his purchase and hurrying away. Cathy grabbed Misty's free hand and stuffed the change into it. 

"_Misty_!" she hissed. "Stop that! People are _staring_!"

Misty stopped crowing with delight. "Oh, well," she said, grabbing her plastic bag of makeup goodies and stuffing the change into her pocket. "Duo likes me."

A sound not unlike "The Phantom of the Opera" being played by a mosquito orchestra trilled in the air. Shifting her bag to the other hand, Misty pulled out the cell phone Zach and her parents made her carry when she went out. "Hello?"

"Misty? Where are you?" The strained voice of Marrigan Broman came over the line, sounding frayed almost to tears, even under a soft overlay of static.

"I'm at the pharmacy, mom." Awkwardly, Misty pulled her car keys from her other pocket, her instincts telling her to get home as soon as possible. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, Misty." Strong, brave Marrigan Broman sounded like she was ready to burst into tears. "It's Walker."

Misty's stomach flip-flopped. "What happened?" Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Cathy looking worriedly at her.

Marrigan's voice quavered. "We're here at the Keep. Come home as soon as you can. Walker had another near-fatal attack."

*****

__

See? See? I told you!! Good stuff lurks among the romance!

Ja ne, minna-san!

--L.P.D. *//.^*


	20. “He’s so still...”

***** _Yaaaaay!!! Thanksgiving weekend!!! Four days of turkey, TV and goofing off!! (For all my American friends who may be a bit confuzzled, Thanksgiving is in October for us in Canada.) Well, I'll do more typing and stuff over the weekend (sheeyeah, like I actually have anything better to do.) Keep an eye out! More stuff to come anon! --Lady PhoenixDagger. *//.^*   
  
I don't own Gundam Wing or Shinigami-kun. I'm too poor for that sort of thing._

*****

The isotubes.

Out of all the non-biological creations of Black Hood, the isotubes were the only good idea of the whole lot. Dulcet snarled and lit another cigarette, his fourth in the last hour. He was angry with everything; the Bond, the plague, Black Hood and himself for rekindling a bad habit he thought he had kicked at least five years ago. Watching the row of three wide, clear plastic tubes, he sucked angrily at his cigarette and forced smoke out his nostrils. Damn Black Hood. Damn them all.

The isotubes was created for "freaks" fitted with plugs who sustained life-threatening injuries -such as those normally gotten in the Ring- to recuperate and heal. Originally they had been created for Black Hood use only, but when Dulcet was cast from the Black Hood inner circle, he took the blueprints with him. Black Hood knew the Keep had them and had staged many raids in the past to get the plans back, but to no avail. The Keep itself was a veritable maze, and even Walker, who had spent most of his life roaming the great stone halls, had not seen all of it. And there were also the Gateways with their unlimited paths to other worlds to consider. Black Hood couldn't simply come out and demand the blueprints return, for to do so would be an almost outright admission of their attempts at playing with creation, which would be like suicide in their position, so they had no choice but to attack. Meanwhile, three isotubes had been created and another one was in the works. Normally the Keep was opposed to Black Hood inventions, but since the raids had begun and the Federation for Human Purity was becoming bolder and bolder, the isotubes seemed to be in almost constant use.

Angrily, Dulcet stubbed out his cigarette –now reduced to a sad, stumpy butt- and reached into the pocket of his lab coat for another. Walker was the only using a 'tube today. Tama had found him earlier that evening, half-dead on the floor of his apartments when he failed to come down into the dining hall for supper. His wings hung in shreds –they still did, though now they were being held together with sutures and surgical tresses- and his clothing had been rent to shreds from his desperate clawing at hallucinated monsters only he could see and hear. Deep gashes in and near his eyes showed mute testament to what he had done when the monsters had refused to leave him. Blood was flowing freely from Walker's body when Tama found him, burbling from a deep, yawning gouge where the sentient plague had fought against him, lost interest for some reason, and eventually retreated back into his body while black streamers of plague writhed gleefully under his skin.

Walker floated now within the drug and DNA fluid cocktail of the artificial tube of the isotube. His body was curled into the fetal position, his face all but lost beneath a breathing mask, tubes and wires branching from the dozens of plugs implanted all over his body like extended veins. One of the Bhaarliad nurses had thoughtfully wound a dark bolt of cloth around Walker's loins, though which nurse had done it and where the cloth had come from was anyone's guess. Watching him hang so motionlessly, Dulcet took a hard drag off his cigarette, knowing full well it wasn't the smoke that was making his eyes water.

"Dr. Anderman?" a timid voice behind the lynx-man made him whirl around, his hand flying to the gun he wore under his pristine lab coat. Amy Gagneir, Walker's girlfriend, jerked back, doelike eyes wide with fear. Cursing, Dulcet backed off and stubbed out his smoke.

"Sorry," he apologised, glad his thick fur could hide the blush he could feel creeping up his cheeks. Amy didn't notice, her gaze riveted to the inert figure in the isotube. _Of course._ Dulcet gave himself a hard mental slap._ The last time Walker was in a 'tube was after the Day of Agony. She's never seen him like this._ Still, he had to give the girl credit; though her eyes were wide, her hands remained steady and her carriage stayed erect.

"It's okay." She reminded Dulcet so much of his late daughter. How old would Lindsay be now? Dulcet pondered this for a moment and was sickened to find he couldn't remember.

"He's so still," whispered Amy. She was staring at Walker and worrying something on her left hand. Dulcet peered closer and caught the pure sparkle of gold. Ah, yes, the promise ring Walker had given Amy for her twentieth birthday. Because of the plague, Walker had no choice but to remain celibate, lest the plague pass itself along to someone else –namely Amy. But so adamant was Walker that he would make Amy his bride some day that he decided he could easily wait for the end of time for the plague to lift from his body so he could wed his Amy. Amy felt the same, swearing she would wait forever is she had to.

Sniffling at Dulcet's side made him look over. Amy had not moved, but her eyes were wet and every few seconds she let out the tortured gasp of one who is trying desperately not to cry. Dulcet moved closer to her, cut to the heart by her sadness, and pulled her close into a tight hug.

"It's okay, it's okay, shhhh, don't cry," Dulcet murmured, rubbing Amy's back as the dam broke and she began to sob. "Remember the Change, Amy. This hell will be over after the Change."

"I know," she sobbed, her entire frame shaking. "But why does he have to suffer like this?"

"I don't know, honey." Dulcet said. "I wish I did, but I don't."

Walker was a mage. Unlike wizards –which, in comparison, are a dime a dozen- he used more than one type of power, whereas wizards normally specialise in one or two specific types, dabble a bit in a few others, and say buggerall to the rest of them. Wizards are also normally born, discovered and trained, period. But Walker, like all mages at one time or another, had one more step left to go that wizards do not go through: the Change. The one thing all mages throughout the annals of recorded time and before had to endure. The Change is an opening of the mage's body, mind and soul to receive his or her full power. If the mage is not fully trained before this event, then death is always immediate. But the Change is unpredictable. To some mages it brought radical physical changes to others it brought none. Some changed hair colour, others changed facial features or eye colour, still others were given wings or tails while others changed everything altogether. The four wizards had calculated what they could of Walker's Change and, though they had no way of telling when it would take place or what he would look like after, they _did_ know that Walker would poses the approximate power of a demigod.

"Is he in pain?" Amy whispered, her voice muffled by Dulcet's lab coat.

"No." It was a fact that both hurt and relieved Dulcet to say. He was glad Walker could feel no pain, lulled into a deep, dreamless slumber by a cocktail of powerful drugs. But it was the thought of when Walker would wake that made Dulcet's stomach clench. He would be disoriented, scared and confused. His wilder instincts would cause him to throw himself against his clear plastic prison and struggle against the tubes and cables that were at the moment the only things keeping him alive. 

"Come." Dulcet took Amy by the shoulders and began to lead her to the door. "The machines are self-regulating. Let's go somewhere where we can go and talk, okay?" 

"Okay," Amy said, wiping her eyes. She looked over her shoulder at Walker. "Just a sec." Pulling herself from Dulcet's grasp, she went back to the row of isotubes and lay her palms against the faintly vibrating plastic. Gently, she lay a kiss on it. "I love you," she whispered, stroking the surface sadly. Brushing at her eyes, Amy went back to Dulcet, who simply watched and said nothing. "Okay," she said, her voice a little bit stronger. "Let's go."

*****

"Heero?" 

The Perfect Soldier looked up from his trigonometry homework to see Relena standing in the doorway of the bedroom he and Duo shared, the light coming in from the hallway behind her giving her hair and skin an almost unearthly glow. 

"Hn?"

"I'm having some dinner now," she said softly. "Would you like some?"

With the advent of Walker's latest attack, Belle and Gil had gone off to the Keep as soon as they heard of it, which had left the issue of dinner a bit up in the air. Heero shrugged one shoulder and followed Relena into the kitchen. The wide oaken table was set with places for two with a lightly steaming pot of something in the centre. The overhead light was on, but it did very little to dispel the pitch-blackness outside. 

"It's not much in the way of presentation, I'm afraid," Relena apologised, gesturing at the pot of Kraft Dinner on the table. "But I couldn't think of anything much better to make."

"Hn." Not even glancing at the food, Heero pulled out his normal chair and sat down. 

Nervously, Relena sat in the seat across from him. "Trowa and Wufei are doing their homework upstairs, Quatre's playing with Shinigami-kun, and Duo's still at Misty's place," Relena said, trying in vain to dispel the thick, choking silence that had draped itself over the kitchen. She was wringing her napkin like she expected clots of blood to drip from it. 

"And Cathy's still at work, I know." Poker-faced, Heero dished himself some macaroni and cheese and woodenly began to eat. 

"Yes. Right." Relena bit her lip. "Um…Heero?"

"Hn?"

"You know the semi-formal coming up?"

"Yeah?" He put down his fork, his face still blank. Around them the darkness seemed to seep its way through the windows and close unpleasantly around them.

"I…" To her surprise, Relena found her hands were actually shaking. "Craig Folett asked me to go with him." 

"Oh?"

She closed her eyes "I told him yes."

The scrape of Heero's chair made Relena open her eyes again, but by this time the Perfect Soldier, his face dead, his body rigid, was already leaving the kitchen.

"Heero?"

The soft _click_ of his bedroom door closing was the only reply she got.

"Heero…I'm so sorry," was all Relena could say before she threw herself into his chair and let the wrenching sobs steal over her.

*****

"Two men," Zach groaned, circling the two unmoving shapes on the cool stone floor, the very same that Relena, Cathy and the ex-pilots had lain on not more than a month prior. Now the four wizards stood there, watching the two still forms lying there. Zach shook his head and circled the two men again. "All this shit for two bloody men."

Talon ran his fingers through his hair. "Indeed." With the toe of his boot, he prodded one of the men, a youngish man with glasses and dirty-blond hair. "How are the descriptions going?" He asked of Nat and Gil. 

"So far, this one's pretty normal." Gil flipped back in his notebook. "Caucasian male, looks to be about 5'7", tanned skin, late twenties to early thirties, dirty-blond hair, glasses, khakis, running shoes, grey sweater." He shook his head. "Can't get much more typical than that."

"At least you got the normal one." Rolling his eyes, Nat began to read from his own notebook. "Caucasian male, between 6'1" and 6'3", early to late twenties, pallid complexion, long black hair of the smelly, greasy variety, long dirty black coat, heavy-soled combat boots, and filthy black jeans and T-shirt." He shuddered. "You'd think he'd try _bathing_ once in a while."

"We're not here to critique their hygiene." Talon said, impatiently tapping his foot. "I need this report ASAP. What about weapons?" 

Gil held up his hands. "Mine's clean, save for a braided anklet thingy and a wedding ring." 

Nat showed the other men a long dagger, its blade dyed matte black. "It's got some sort of weird enchantment I can't place on it. He's also wearing some sort of pendant, but it's clean. Probably from some sort of fake-ass cult he made up himself." As on man, the wizened old men cast a distasteful look at the young man in black. "We'll have to keep an eye on this one."

"Mmmh," Zach nodded. "Get them off to a sleeping room. We can deal with them later."

*****

_Knock, knock._

"Come in."

Belle entered Heero and Duo's bedroom, shutting the door gently behind her. Heero was sitting in his usual ramrod straight posture on his bed, eyes trained on a book in his lap, though it was clear he was not even looking at the words. He looked up as Belle got to him and drew back her hand and but he made not move to stop her as she struck him hard across the face. 

"What were you thinking!?" the previously sweet-faced woman shouted. Heero said nothing and leaned over to get his book, which had fallen out of his lap. Heero's face remained blank as usual, but his sapphire eyes blazed like cold fire. Belle's own mahogany eyes sparked in kind. "I come home after an absolutely nerve-wracking evening only to find an absolutely distraught girl sobbing her eyes out in her bedroom. A girl whose pain is so great that I felt it coming up the damn driveway!" She stopped and took a deep breath. "What have you done?"

Heero's eyes narrowed slightly before returning to their previous state of emotional emptiness. "Nothing."

Belle's hand twitched at her side, but she managed to stay it. "Don't lie to me boy. You know full well I can tell. There's something unresolved between you two."

"I don't like her."

"Bullshit!" Belle spat the word like it was poisonous. "Even Quatre can tell the attraction's mutual with all the raging hormones flying all over the place."

Still silent, Heero stood and walked to the window, looking out into the night sky. Belle strode swiftly to his side. "Don't you _dare_ turn your back to me when I am speaking to you." The ageless woman's voice was like frosted steel. 

"Leave me alone."

"Relena is sitting down the hall sobbing into Kari's shoulder and all her dire thoughts are bleeding all over the house. I am not going to just sit and let this pass, Heero Yuy! Her grief is too great for that." 

"So?" 

"So?! Heero, she is convinced that you hate her." Belle grabbed his by the shoulder. "Relena's heart is screaming to hold you, boy! Her thoughts about you are so strong, they're giving Quatre a panic attack in the next room over!"

"So?" Heero wrenched his shoulder from Belle's surprisingly strong grip and rounded on her, blue eyes clashing against brown. "I'm not her keeper."

Tears began to well in Belle's eyes. "You're so cruel, child."

"Yeah." Heero shrugged. "Deal with it."

This time he caught Belle's wrist before she could strike him again. 

"She has her own life and I have mine," he continued. "And it doesn't include _her_."

"She has a name, boy!" Belle snapped.

"So do I," Heero snarled back.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Belle calmed herself before going on. She was shouting, an act that could make Relena's pathos even worse. Though she hated to do it, Belle decided to pull out the big guns. "Do you even know what Relena's thinking, Heero?"

"You told me, didn't you?" he said, turning away again to look out the window.

"She's remembering, Heero. She remembers all the times you tried to die, all the times you hurt yourself or let yourself become vulnerable." With a mental finger placed gently on the pulse of Heero's mind, Belle noticed a slight tightening within him. Boldly, she plunged on. "She remembers the times you tried to kill her and the times you threatened her. And through all these memories, Relena recalls most of all how she still held on to the faint hope that you still felt for her like she feels for you." Taking another deep breath, Belle sat on Duo's bed, her slender fingers smoothing the wrinkles from his rumpled sheets. And now she thinks she had hoped all for nothing. Relena wants nothing more than to curl up and die. Kari and the boys are with her and all she can do is sob and ask why she's even here."

Heero didn't turn from the window. "I don't care." 

Belle's cool, tinkling laugh made Heero half turn. "Your mouth say one thing, little boy, but your mind says quite the opposite."

Whirling, Heero buried his fist into the panel wall. "Stay out of my mind!!" he screamed.

"Then how else can I understand what pain it is you feel?" Belle darted in and wrapped Heero's shoulders in a tight hug. Heero, too stunned to react, did nothing. "I know its strange to you, but I love you, you silly, stupid little boy," Belle said fondly. Reaching up, she placed a kiss on the Perfect Soldier's cheek. "Relena loves you, too." She smiled. "And I know you love her just as much, if not more. Go to her, Heero. Let her take you in." Slowly, slowly, Heero's arms curled loosely around her slim waist, though his eyes remained barren. Belle smiled into his shirt. "Tell me, Heero. What troubles you?"

"It…" Scowling, Heero struggled with his words. Death threats were one thing, but spilling his guts was quite another. "…hurts," he finished lamely.

Gently, Belle reached up and kissed him on the forehead before leading him to sit on the floor with her. She reached out to touch his temples, but the Perfect Soldier jerked away. "Please, child. Let me see where it hurts."

Heero hesitated a moment, every fibre of his training screaming against being in this potentially compromising position, before leaning forward and letting Belle touch him.

"Relax," she crooned softly. "Let me mould myself into you." 

Slowly, the Perfect Soldier's eyes unfocused and he slumped forward as the ageless psionicist found a sturdy mental handhold and eased herself deep within the consciousness of Heero Yuy.

*****

The shower knob squeaked slightly as Relena twisted the water off, letting the last hot, tiny trickles drip onto the back of her hand.

_So that would be the end of it, then?_ she thought to herself. Kari and the others had long since managed to calm her down and –after shooing the boys away, thank goodness- Kari had all but stripped Relena down herself and chucked her into the downstairs bathroom with the stern order to take a shower. The Former-Vice Foreign Minister of the Earth-Sphere Alliance wrapped herself in a towel that had long ago had its fuzziness worn away. Okay, so perhaps she felt a _tiny _bit better, but the thought of having to see Heero again and having to go to the semi-formal with that repulsive jerk Craig Folett made her stomach churn with burning guilt and disgust.

__

How did I let that pompous ass railroad me into going with him? Relena sighed, allowing her mind to trail back to her politician days when she could say easily "no" to anyone. The days long past in which when she said no, it remained as such, instead of becoming "Oh, al_right_!" after a litany of "Come on! Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease_pleeeeease_!!!! 

Those were the days.

__

Next time I see Craig I'm going to tell him I changed my mind. Relena lifted her chin defiantly. _Hah! _Just as quickly as it came, the good feeling rushed away as Relena perused her options._ And then what? Movie night? Ice cream feast?_ She sighed and wandered towards the room she shared with Cathy and Kari. _Maybe Shinigami-kun plays checkers. _At least the mental picture of the little reaper wrapping his arms around his pieces and labouring them across the checkerboard was somewhat cheering, if not a little bit disconcerting.

Idly rubbing her hair with another towel, Relena made it to her darkened room and shut the door, not bothering with the light. The moon was full that night and it gave her all the light she needed. Cathy was still at work and Kari was off somewhere, probably with Trowa. A twinge of hot envy stabbed momentarily at Relena, but she brushed it off. Who was she to complain about someone else's happiness?

"Ooh, man," Relena groaned. _What a shitty day._ She thought briefly of what her dear brother Zechs would say to her use of such strong language and smiled in spite of herself. He'd probably be shocked to learn his dear, sweet Queen of the World even knew such words existed. Of course, then Noin would probably brief him on some other more colourful language and probably make his ears bleed. Relena found she no longer thought of her past life with crushing sadness or regret, but rather with warm fondness, even though it had only been a month. Correctly, she guessed that this was Belle's doing and made a quick mental note to ask her about it later.

Sighing, Relena dropped her towel and, totally nude, flicked on the light. Tomorrow she would march right up to Craig Folett and tell him right to his face not only what she thought of him, but also where he could put that damned "date" of theirs. Tonight, however, Relena decided she was going to try and relax, paint her nails, put on some soft, sexy music and curl up with a sappy romance novel she would otherwise not be caught dead with. 

It was when she was trying to find her nail file that she happened to glance over at her bed and see the splash of vibrant colour on her pillow. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she rushed to it and picked up a small, clear plastic box containing a delicate blue corsage, pulled off the little envelope that was taped to it and read what was inside:

__

Relena, it said in Heero's familiar nondescript handwriting. _Save a dance for me? Heero._

A huge grin spread itself across Relena's lovely face. Grabbing her towel and snatching her agenda book from her bed table, she sprinted barefoot into the hall, wrapping herself in the towel as she went. Quickly she hurried into the kitchen, where the stone cold remains of her disastrous dinner with Heero was slowly crusting to the pot. Quatre was nearby on the phone with his physics homework open on his lap. 

"…and then you convert the trinomials…yeah, like that and-" He looked up at the sound of Relena's bare foot slapping impatiently on the wood floor. The Gentle Noble's face turned flaming red as he saw her dripping, towel-clad form. "Uh, hi, Relena."

"Can I use the phone?" Relena opened her agenda, flipping for a particular phone number. "I only need it for a couple of minutes." 

After Quatre had quickly hung up and fled the room –all while staring intently at the floor- Relena picked up the receiver and dialled the number. 

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

__

Click. "Hello?"

Taking a deep breath, Relena began. "Hello, Craig? It's about the dance…" 

*****

_ I think I can safely say this chapter is much better than the last one. Do tell me what you think!  
  
Happy Turkey Day, minna-san!  
  
--L.P.D. *//.^*  _


	21. “It…hurts…”

Just when you thought I was dead… Okay, so I'm a lazy-ass __

Just when you thought I was dead… Okay, so I'm a lazy-ass. What can I say? It's true, ne? –Lady Phoenixdagger *//.^*

I will not claim to own Gundam Wing

I will not claim to own Gundam Wing

I will not claim to own Gundam Wing

I will not claim to own Gundam Wing

I will not claim to own Gundam Wing

I will not claim to own Gundam Wing

I will not claim to own Gundam Wing

I will not claim to own Gundam Wing

I will not claim to own Gundam Wing….

*****

"Where am I!? I demand to know where I am being held!" 

Wearily rubbing his temples, Ali Broman sighed and approached the sleeping room where the two men that had passed through the Bond the night before were being held. Now it was midmorning the next day and both were wide awake, one more so than the other by the sound of it. They had only been up for about an hour and already the tall black-haired man –who curtly told one of the people checking up on them earlier that he was to be called Roth and nothing else- had pasted himself with the label of "supreme jerk". The other one had been asleep at the time, and Roth would volunteer no information whatsoever, so they knew absolutely nothing about him. And so, lucky Ali Broman had been saddled with the esteemed pleasure of greeting them both. 

__

Lovely. Saddle the nice guy with the welcome wagon duties. 

Sighing, Ali pushed open the heavy, wooden door and stepped into the sleeping room. 

The scene that greeted him was like that out of a badly-written farce. Roth stood in the middle of the room facing off with an emerald-hued Bhaarliad woman with a wicker basket of clean clothes balanced on her hip. Ali recognised her as Rhaeyne, Glas the blacksmith's wife. She was a cheeky one to be sure, but if Roth decided to lunge at her, Ali decided she could probably take him. The other, smaller, nameless man was standing between them like a referee at a hockey game, a harried look on his face. Ali sighed again. It would have been almost funny, had it not been him who had to break it up. Roth and the Rhaeyne looked like they were ready to leap over the blond man and put their teeth to each other's throats. Straightening his black wool robe, Ali cleared his throat and stepped into the fray.

"Who the hell are you!?" Roth roared. Rhaeyne looked up at the tall Druid with a triumphant look on her face. The blond man looked at him, looked again at the scene and resumed looking worried. 

Ali kept his face calm. "I am Ali Broman, a Druid of this place-" 

"Which would be…?" Roth interrupted rudely. Sniffing at him, Rhaeyne tossed her head and left the room, minus the basket.

"Alaryan's Keep." _Genius! How informative,_ Ali chided himself. Quickly he went on to explain the Bond and the circumstances around it, the Keep and Walker. Throughout his monologue, he noticed the blond man hung onto every word he said, while Roth simply leaned on his bedstead looking bored.

When he finished, the dirty-blond man bit his lip. "So then we're to blame for this Lord Walker's attack?"

Ali nodded, stopped, and shook his head in the negative. "You are the cause, but surely you are not to blame. The Bond is impossible to manipulate. There is no way this could be your fault."

The blond man smiled ruefully. "Somehow that doesn't do much in the way of comfort." He extended his hand. "I'm Dr. Mackenzie Goodman, by the way. A biologist and professor with Alnwood University." He shook his head. "Not that it matters now, I suppose." 

Ali took the proffered hand and shook it, painfully aware of how huge and callused his hand was next to Mackenzie's own small, smooth one. "Good to meet you."

Roth hawked and spat, carelessly letting it splat loudly on the stone floor. "So because of some brat and his 'condition', I'm trapped with some friggin' fairy boy and a giant version of Sinbad the sailor in the medieval era?" he groused.

Ali bristled at the words the smelly, unkempt man said. "First of all, this is _not_ the medieval era." The seven-foot Druid let his hand rest easily on head of the heavy warhammer attached to the thick leather belt he wore over his robes. As a Druid, he was forbidden to use bladed weaponry; however, this did not keep him from using blunt, heavy weaponry to bash some major ass. If anything, he didn't have to worry about keeping the thing sharp, and it got the job done just as well as any sword or axe, though admittedly it _did_ make more of a mess. "And secondly, this 'brat' you speak of is my son." He leaned in, letting his beard barely brush Roth's own scraggly face. The smell of the younger man's breath almost made Ali's eyes cross, but he kept on. "My very large, very _powerful_ son."

Despite the scare tactics, Roth merely shrugged. "Whatever. This still sucks monkey shit."

Mackenzie shot Roth a Look before wandering off to the clothes basket and rummaging around in it. "Well, I for one would love to see more of this Keep. Tell me, are there more of those lizard women like the one we saw around here?"

"Bhaarliad," Ali corrected automatically. "The words 'lizard man' or 'lizard woman' are like open invitations to be referred to as 'monkey boy' for the rest of your life."

"Oh. Sorry." Mackenzie pulled his khakis from the basket and began pulling them on under his nightshirt. "Do you think you could show me around?" He looked up, grey eyes shining boyishly behind his glasses. "This place must be absolutely _fascinating_." The good doctor caught himself in his wide-eyed expression and straightened, clearing his throat. "From a purely scientific point of view, you understand." 

"Sure." Ali smiled. He was already beginning to like this guy. He was pleasant and polite and intelligent. If one of Ali's daughters ever brought home a man like this, he would welcome him into the family as soon as he stepped through the door. And held up next to Roth, all Mackenzie was missing was a halo a perhaps an angelic choir. "You coming, Roth?"

"Hell no."

Mackenzie shrugged. "Your loss." He stripped off his nightshirt and pulled on his sweater. From his pocket, he pulled out a tiny notebook and a pencil. "Lead on, O Knowledgeable One."

Ali grinned. "First stop, dining room," he said as they left the room and Roth behind. 

Mackenzie caught his breath as he looked at the stunning architecture of the arched hallway stretching out before him. "Hey, do you paint by any chance?" he asked. "Because this would be a _great_ picture!" 

Ali grinned wider. Today was going to be a good day.

*****

In Duo's hand, the attendance fluttered as he walked to deliver it to the front office. It was for biology class and the teacher _had_ said that he could take his time, so Duo decided to take the long way, if only to miss the first fifteen or twenty minutes of the "Photosynthesis is Phun!" lab Ms. Blower was giving. The semiformal was only a few days away now and Duo was in high spirits. He had braved going shopping with Belle and now had a suit, complete with an ancient top hat and cane of Gil's he had found buried in the basement. He also had a buttoneer and corsage on order, a bouquet of roses to pick up on the day of the dance, a box of chocolates he had resisted eating and –of course- a hot date. 

Needless to say, life was good.

Humming a song he'd heard on the radio, Duo cut down another hallway that would lead him to the front office. Eventually. About two-thirds of the way down, he spotted Heero at his locker, pulling out a three-ring binder. 

"Hey!" Duo called to him. Heero looked up and nodded curtly to Duo. "Going my way?"

"No."

"Then I'll just go yours." The Great Shinigami waved the attendance cheerfully like a flag over his head and jogged over to Heero, grinning mischievously. "I swear, if I have do one more activity that involves microscopes and botany, I'll go ZERO."

The Perfect Soldier rolled his eyes. "Come along then. I'll be late for math class."

"Cool."

The two boys meandered down the halls, Heero in his habitual silence and Duo surrounded by his usual cloud of ceaseless chatter. Teacher's patrolling the halls glanced their way, sensing skippers, but the attendance in Duo's hand was like a magic bill of passage, giving the teachers the message that detention would be unfounded. 

It was when they came down the hall closest to the Gym that they found Misty's shredded backpack in the middle of the floor, only made recognisable by colour and the fact that her personal belongings were flung all over the place. Soldier's instinct caught Duo then, as well as Heero. Breathing deeply, ready at all times to attack, Duo stooped and picked up a tube of Chapstick that had rolled from Misty's backpack. All over the hall papers and other things were strewn about. Here lay the novel she had been reading, there lay her lunch. Sheets of paper were scattered all over the floor. But there was one essential that Duo failed to find.

__

Where the hell is she?

"Duo." Heero's voice was grim. "Come here."

Pulse racing, Duo all but sprinted to Heero, who was kneeling by a row of lockers, eyes glued to a spot on the floor. "What is it?"

"Here." Heero pointed to the spot he was looking at. A large scarlet splat of blood marred a scrap of paper there. There was also a little bit of blood on the locker door above it.

"Oh, lord." Trembling with unspent adrenaline, Duo put his ear to the impossibly narrow metal door and listened hard. 

The sound of shallow breathing greeted him.

"_Shit!_" The Great Shinigami grabbed to the lock and set to work cracking the combination. "She's inside!"

Wordlessly, Heero slapped Duo's hands away, grabbed the lock, and, with a sharp twist, wrenched it off. Carelessly, he tossed it down the hall. It bounced tinnily off a wall before being lost from sight. Impatient, Duo butted in front of Heero and whipped open the locker door.

__

Oh, no…

Misty, her tiny body crammed upright into the locker, her hair matted with dried blood, was unconscious, her shallow breathing telling of at least one broken rib. Duo fought the urge to scream with rage when he saw her arm dangling at an odd angle. Forcing himself to breathe normally, he gently lifted her from the locker, seeing the deep violet bruises blooming like gruesome fireworks under her skin. Dimly, he became aware of Heero helping to support Misty's broken arm and guiding him towards the office. Slowly before him, the word began to cloak itself in a think, syrupy haze. 

"Wake up, Duo!" Heero snapped sharply as they walked. "This is not the time to lose it."

Duo shook his head to clear it. Heero was right. In his arms, Misty slowly came around and turned her head to look at him. Softly, she moaned.

"Shhhhh," Duo whispered to her. Gently, he leaned over and laid his lips on her sweaty forehead. "Don't move, baby. Everything'll be okay."

"…_hurts_…" 

"I know, baby." He looked up to see they were approaching the front office. "Just try to stay with me until we get to the Health Room and everything'll be okay. All right?"

Misty merely sighed and went limp in Duo's arms. 

Inside the office, the receptionist started as Heero and Duo burst in with Misty and made a beeline to the Health Room, but sat back down at a murderous glance from Heero. Once there, Duo gently lay Misty down on one of the low, hard vinyl cots and made her as comfortable as he could while Heero rummaged around in the cabinets for medical supplies. 

"…Duo…?" Misty's voice was tiny, almost confused, and her eyes were darting around the room, trying to decipher where she was. "…Duo…?" 

"I'm still here, baby." The braided boy moved into her line of sight. "Don't cry." As gently as he could, he dabbed around the spreading bruises on her face to mop up her tears. "I'm here. Don't cry, now. Lay still."

Heero appeared suddenly by them, a pair of scissors in his hand. "We have to take a look at her ribs and we can't just pull off her shirt on account of her arm." Duo caught the rest of the sentence from the look on Heero's face._ Keep her calm._

"Okay," Duo said back. His own expression clearly said, _If you stare at her…_

Carefully, Heero cut Misty's uniform golf shirt up the front, avoiding contact with the fragile body beneath. Red-faced, Duo looked fiercely at the ceiling. Beside him, he heard Heero whistle softly under his breath. 

"Huh. Sexy black lace," the Perfect Soldier said. "Who would have expected that?" 

"_HEERO!!_"

"Just checking to see if you were still awake." Heero smirked briefly before starting off to the freezer in the corner of the room for some ice, leaving Duo and Misty alone for the moment. Uncomfortable, Duo tried looking for designs in the ceiling tiles. Needless to say, this activity lasted all of six seconds.

_C'mon Shinigami, staring at the ceiling isn't going to help you do anything useful._ Painfully aware of how hard he was breathing, Duo slowly forced himself to look down. Inwardly, he groaned at the sight of Misty's tiny form blooming with bruises and cuts. Over her heart, Duo could make out the faint outline of a boot heel surrounded by darkening bruises. There were a couple of other things he naturally also noticed, but chivalry quickly took over and dragged his eyes to Misty's face. His heart dropped further as he saw her bright eyes already beginning to purple and swell shut. Lightly, he traced along her jawline with a fingertip.

"Hey," he said kindly. "How are you doing?" _Moron!!_ He kicked himself hard. _Great line, stupid!! Pure insight!!_

Misty turned her face into Duo's palm and moaned. Gasping at the pain this caused her ribs, she suddenly began to cry.

"Shhh, shhh." Alarmed, Duo began to stroke her hair. "It'll be okay. Don't overexcite yourself. I'm still right here."

"It…hurts…"

"I know, baby. I know."

"Move over." Heero came then, a plastic baggie of ice in either hand. Carefully, he laid one over the boot print on Misty's chest and handed the other to Duo. "Keep it over her eyes," he instructed. "The receptionist called 911. The paramedics just got here." He leaned over to murmur into Duo's ear: "Keep her calm until they get here."

Duo knelt by Misty and put his lips by her ear. "The paramedics are coming now, Misty."

"…come…?" She winced as her breath jarred her lungs.

Duo smiled gently at her. "Of course, baby. I'll come with you." He held her good hand. _If anything, I could help hold Darien down when he hears about what happened. _ Duo stroked Misty's sweat-dampened hair. _Who would do such a thing to an innocent girl?_ He sucked in a deep sigh of relief as the sound of adult footsteps hurrying to the Health Room neared. "Promise."

*****

"Bastards." Darien took another pull on his beer and grimaced. He, Ria, Amy and Tama were sitting at the kitchen table in the Broman house, talking and drinking, though more of the latter had been going on as of late. Ali and Marrigan were still at the hospital with Misty and Zach was wearily trying to snatch some sleep in his bedroom upstairs. The atmosphere was intoxicatingly fuzzy, the whole room being lit through the bounty of one tiny oil lamp Ria had dug up from the basement. Slowly, Darien checked his watch, noting absently the lateness –or earliness, depending- of the hour. "Bastards," he repeated. "Damned bastards."

Tama nodded and went back to peeling the label from her bottle and playing with the scraps that fell to the table, watching them fall like boldly coloured snowflakes. "Out of the five –no, sorry, four- of us, the Federation shits chose to beat on little Misty." She shook her head. "I don't get it. Why her?" She flicked a bottle cap across the table, watching the Molson logo spin like a top. Earlier that evening, Misty had told all she could remember about the incident, which wasn't very much. The one thing she did recall were the bloody red armbands that the junior members of the Federation for Human Purity wore. "They could have taken any one of us," Tama continued. "But they went after her."

"She's the weakest of the five of us, not to mention the most convenient since those Federation shits go to the same school as her." Ria sighed. "Just goes to show you what kind of heartless assholes we're dealing with."

Amy nodded, drawing her legs onto her chair and sitting on them. "Yeah…but now what?"

"Now?" Darien stretched and paused to drink deeply from the bottle in his hand. "Now we can do nothing. They pound on us survivors and no one does anything. They put up signs and flyers telling people we're spawn of Satan or something and have rallies and marches, but no one has the guts to stop them. Now they've put their heels into one single, solitary girl –a _bard_, no less- and just like before, everyone will just shut their eyes and sit on their hands."

Darien watched three pairs of female eyes look away before closing his own and laying his head in his hands. "Why can't anything ever be easy?"

They drank without speaking for a while, letting themselves be buried under a blanket of silence torn with the occasional creaks and groans of the house settling into itself. 

"Sondra Fraser called us today," Ria said after what seemed to be a lifetime. "She still wants to do that…thinger….Whaddaya call it?"

"An exposé," Darien said, his head still in his hands. "Looks like Sondra Fraser, lady reporter and activist extarordinaire strikes yet again." For months now, Sondra Fraser, an anchor on the local six o'clock news, had been trying to get a news crew into the Keep for her segment called "Sondra's People". Admittedly, she was doing in support of the Keep and survivors and magic-users alike. But around the Keep, the decision was unanimous: _no cameras_.

Still, in light of what had just happened, the chance to show the world that Black Hood survivors and magic-users were mainly harmless was starting to look more and more compelling.

"Don't be so cynical, Darien," Amy scolded. "She's trying her best to help out. And she seems to be a sweet enough woman on TV."

Darien shrugged. "Yeah, but would you want to be known as one of 'Sondra's People'? It sounds almost like she discovered us or something."

"You may have a point there."

"Umph," Tama stood and stretched, wobbling a bit as the booze in her system did battle with her muscle control. "I'm going to bed," she announced. "All this talk is getting depressing."

"I'm with you." Ria rose as well, her stance a bit steadier. "Come on, Amy. I don't think you shout be driving right now. You can sleep in our room tonight…." The sentence trailed off, but the rest of it chimed sadly in their minds: _It's not like Misty will be._

"Yeah. Okay." Amy leaned over and pecked Darien on the temple. "G'night, Darien."

" 'Night."

The women left the kitchen, leaving Darien alone to think in the waning light of the oil lamp. Mentally, he reached out and brushed against Walker's mind, only to be greeted with dark, enveloping nothingness. Walker had still not woken up. Almost idly, Darien wondered if this latest attack was to be the last Walker would ever encounter, that perhaps this time he would not open his eyes. Instantly, he regretted thinking so. Frustrated, Darien clenched his fists, shattering the beer bottle he had forgotten was there in his hands. Swearing softly, he began to pick bits of tinted glass out his palms and fingers, watching the torn flesh close eagerly after them. It was almost horrifying, watching the tissue knit together and seam shut there in the almost total darkness. His heart heaving with melancholy, Darien looked at his hands, willing the long, slender metal claws in his hands to come forth. They did, tearing eagerly from the flesh under his knuckles, shockingly foot-long for their finger-length prisons. They gleamed in an almost sinister fashion, evil-looking in the way they caught the sparse lamplight. 

A tear hit the tabletop followed quickly by another and yet another. Ashamed, Darien pulled in the metal claws, not able to bear the sight of them any longer.

_Lord,_ he said silently, hating the thunderous absence of the faint underbuzz of Walker's thoughts that normally accompanied his own. _Why us?_

*****

Wow, am I ever cruel... Okay, I'll make the wait for the next chapter a little less long. Promise!

Ja ne, minna-san!

L.P.D. *//.^*


	22. Semiformal

__

Okay, so it's been for damn ever since I've posted last. Ah, well. This chapter is about 14 pages long, so don't say I've been slacking off. –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

I do not own Gundam Wing. I do, however, own everything else here. So you sticky-fingered thieves (I know where you live, by the way, pond scum) can just bugger the hell off!!!!!

*****

**I am _not_ wearing that.** Kari crossed her arms in a rare display of stubbornness, her full lower lip pushing out into a pretty pout. Relena and Cathy sighed. Not to be discouraged, Belle draped the dress she had been holding out for Kari to examine over her arm and put on a determined smile that would have sent even Dorothy Catalonia ducking for cover. Her eyes bound on account of yet another headache, Kari, not being able to see the dress, had touched it all over with sensitive fingertips, liking everything about what she felt. At least, until she got to the skirt.

**I refuse to show my skin.**

"Kari, dearest, it's two days to the semiformal and need to wear _something_." Belle put her hands on her hips. "You're a beautiful young lady and it's about time everyone else knew about it."

**No.** Kari sniffed irritably. **I suppose I just won't go, then.**

Cathy came forward, waving a hand in an "oh, who cares?" gesture. "Just throw on some thick tights and it'll all be good." She sighed. "Come _on,_ even _I'm_ going!"

"Trowa would be absolutely crushed if you didn't go, Kari," Relena said, momentarily risking her life by wrapping her arm around the irate fighter's waist. "And if he blushes _now_, just imagine what'll happen when he sees you in _that_!"

Belle put on an expression of mock-horror. "Good lord! His hair could catch fire!"

The pouty lower lip pulled in a little bit. **Really… **A vulpine smile grew on Kari's face.** Is that so?"**

"Oh, yeah!" Cathy grinned, already digging furiously in a drawer for a pair of opaque nylons. "He'll love it! Er… once he comes to."

****

Hmmmm. Perhaps I'll consider it. In other words, _yes._

Sighing, Relena sprawled on the bed, looking guiltily at the ceiling. "With all this excitement, I can't help but feel bad about going without Misty." She rolled onto her stomach. "It feels like we're abandoning her."

****

Yeah. We're going out while she's staying at home. Kari's face fell into a snarl, making even the cloth binding her eyes look threatening. **So help me, if any of those Federation assholes decide to come to school tomorrow…**

"Let it go, Kari. Revenge never solved anything," Belle scolded. "Don't make it worse, child."

Cathy grinned cattily at them. "Don't feel too guilty, girls. I think Duo has something up his sleeve for Misty on Friday night. He's been working on some alternate date thing for her for days now." Her grin faded. "I should know. The little scam artist managed to bum twenty bucks off me for it."

Relena, Kari and Belle shared a knowing female type of grin usually reserved for scaring the hell out of the male members of the household. "I smell lo-o-ove!" Relena sing-songed. 

"Yeah," Cathy grinned. "I think this is exactly what Misty needs."

**Two days,** Kari said, the speechdrop nestled in the hollow of her throat pulsing almost bashfully with every word. **Would you believe I'm actually excited?**

*****

Friday afternoon, six o'clock. One hour until the semiformal. 

Misty had invited Relena, Kari and Cathy over to her house to get ready. Despite living with a wizard, a mage, an elemental, a Druid and a healer, Misty's body was still mending itself the old fashioned way. Though it sounded outlandish, there was actually practical reason for this. Healing by magical means unless in dire circumstances was highly discouraged by Keep propriety; if an individual received healing, his body could become used to it and lose the ability to heal naturally, a very bad circumstance indeed. Also, healing by magic was, as Talon once put it "basically the same painful shit over again, only going the other way and a helluva lot more slowly". Therefore, Zach had decided sadly that Misty had no choice but to stay home and heal for the next little while. He had tried to heal her partway, but the procedure had proved to be so painful that the elderly wizard had been forced to stop it before ever even truly starting. So now Misty's arm was in a sling and her ribs still ached painfully, especially when she forgot herself and coughed or laughed. On the upside, the swelling over her eyes had subsided to the point that she could open and close them almost comfortably, although the skin around them still remained disturbingly purple. 

Presently the girls were in Misty's bedroom, getting ready. Or, more to the point, Relena, Kari and Cathy were getting ready. Misty was sitting on her bed, staring at the mirror over the vanity and trying to keep herself from brooding. So far it was a losing battle.

"Zip me up the back?"

"Hunh?" Misty tore her eyes away from her reflection. "What did you say?"

Relena looked over her shoulder at Misty and gestured to the zipper of her dress –a deep, royal blue strapless number that made her look absolutely stunning- with a matching royal blue-gloved hand. "Could you zip me up the back, please?"

"Sure, but be patient." Misty raised her cast-covered arm and winced. "It'll be a one-handed job." Clumsily, she zipped up Relena's dress. "There," she said wistfully. "You're beautiful."

Cathy grinned and smoothed the skirt of her pal lavender dress over her hips. "How do I look?"

"Gorgeous." Unconsciously, Misty's eyes drifted back to the damaged face in the mirror. 

Sighing gustily, Cathy got between the red-haired bard and her reflection. Gently, she put her palm to Misty's cheek. "It's not a permanent thing, babe," she said, referring to Misty's bruises. "Stop obsessing over it." Carefully, she shook Misty's shoulder. "Besides, you're so much prettier when you smile." 

"Sure." _Liar._

****

Are you ready? Kari's voice came in from the hallway through the closed bedroom door. **I'm coming in now. Don't you _dare_ laugh.**

Slowly, the door opened to reveal Kari, her hands folded demurely at her waist. The dress she wore was the very same that she and Belle had been arguing about earlier and it was obvious that Belle had been right all along. The dress went all the way down to her wrists and more than halfway up her throat, but the skirt only came to the middle of her thighs. The fabric was your basic black, but with pinprick points of silver brocaded into the cloth and it clung to her body like a second skin, showing off her slender arms and slim waist before flaring out for the skirt, which revealed to the world the legs of a goddess. Her hair was hanging in loose, spun-gold waves to her waist and for once, Kari had left off the blindfold. The whole effect left the other girls staring in utter disbelief. 

****

Do I look okay? 

"Honey, you look in-_fricking_-credible!" Cathy grinned. "Trowa is going to _faint _when he sees you!"

****

Do you honestly think so?

Misty smiled at her suddenly shy friend. "Yeah. You're absolutely beautiful." She laughed a moment before sitting heavily on her bed, gasping at the sudden sharp pain in her rib. "Who'da thought you would have had legs that could kill a man at twenty paces?"

****

I don't think I've ever gone out in public without my blindfold on before, Kari said nervously.

"And you look absolutely lovely without it," Relena said firmly. She glanced quickly at the clock on Ria's bedside table. "The guys said they were coming at six thirty, right?"

"Yeah." Misty nodded. "Duo's coming over, too. We're going to watch movies and stuff."

Relena nodded and checked her eyeshadow in the mirror. "Well, it's about twenty-five after." She straightened and smoothed her dress over her hips, an air of sudden first-date nerves hovering about her. "Welcome to zero hour, girls. I think I just heard someone knocking downstairs."

As if on cue, Zach's reedy voice cut in from downstairs in the kitchen. "Girls! Your knights in shining armour have arrived!"

Misty rolled her eyes. "Coming, Granddad!" she called back and immediately she fell back onto the bed, her good hands pressed to her broken rib. With the other she fended off the sudden onslaught of worried friends. "I gotta stop doing that," she groaned, poorly feigning good-naturedness. "See you guys later. Have fun."

Kari sighed loudly. **Oh, come _on_**, she said, grabbing Misty's wrist impatiently and dragging her into the hall. Shrugging, Cathy and Relena followed them to the kitchen.

Heero, Quatre, Trowa and Duo were standing idly around the table there, trying not to look at Zach and Ali, who were busy trying not to look like they were looking the boys over in that unnerving overprotective-parent manner that seems to be mandatory for first dates. Smiling shyly, Kari, Cathy and Relena descended the stairs and emerged through the doorway like blushing enchantresses lined up one after another. The sounds coming from the boys were obvious clues that the girls' primping and fussing had not gone unnoticed. An abrupt, strangled noise told the tale of Trowa's first glimpse of Kari and her killer figure. Likewise, the girls exclaimed over their respective dates, complimenting suits and sighing over delicate corsages. Both sexes had looked their matches over and the overall verdict was met with great approval. 

Suddenly ashamed of herself, Misty hung back, hiding behind the stairwell door. She tried not to be jealous as she listened to the compliments and shy laughter ring out at her ear. 

__

It's not fair. Frustrated, Misty wiped her eyes, trying to ignore the spine-shuddering pain that assaulted her as she put pressure on her bruises. _Oh, lord._ _What am I even doing here?_ Slowly, painfully, she turned and began to make her way back upstairs, but a sudden, gentle pressure on her good wrist caused the auburn-headed bard pause and turn.

Duo, looking great in a tux –which, by the way, is not difficult feat. It is a well-known fact that any man, when inserted into a tuxedo, becomes an instant chick magnet- was gripping her arm. A duffel bag was slung over his shoulder and he held a full bouquet of deep red roses. "Hey," he said gently. "You're not planning on standing me up, are you?"

Stunned by his words, Misty simply stared at him. "Say what?"

"You said you'd spend the evening with me, right?" In a manner that Misty would later say was nothing short of artful, he managed to take her hand and lead her upstairs. "That would make this a date." 

"Oh…"

The braided boy grinned and for the first time Misty noticed there was a top hat perched precariously on his head and a shiny black walking stick gripped tightly under his arm. "Buck up, babe. This is supposed to be fun."

"Right." Misty felt her face heat in a warm blush that she sincerely hoped Duo couldn't see. _He looks so cute!_ "Sorry I'm not all dressed up."

Duo shrugged and let go of her hand for a moment. "Here." He took off his top hat and plunked it solidly on her head. "There you go! Ooooh, _classy_." The braided boy hefted the duffel bag, which bulged tightly. "I brought movie snacks." He shifted the bag, which was so full it did not even have room for the contents inside to rustle. "D'you think I brought enough?"

For the first time all evening, Misty smiled. "Yeah, maybe." _Perhaps tonight won't be so bad after all._

*****

It was eight o'clock. The dance had been on for about an hour now and Quatre was having a horrible time. For that night and that night only the school cafeteria was a dance hall, complete with seizure inducing lights and a never-ending supply of throbbing base that made Quatre's head throb along with it. Heero and Relena and Trowa and Kari were out on the floor, swaying around to some sappy ballad that seemed to involve a great deal of unintelligible "woo-woo"-ing and a generally painful female voice that drilled straight into Quatre's skull. And to top it all off, Cathy was nowhere to be seen. Quatre supposed he couldn't blame her. It wasn't that they didn't like each other as people, but going out on the basis of "surrogate little brother's best friend" and "best friend's surrogate older sister" was more than a little freakish.

_Kill me,_ Quatre groaned inwardly as the shrilly singing woman launched into yet another chorus. _I don't even _like _to dance._

"I wanna loooooove you fore-e-e-e-ever…"

Why me? Glumly, Quatre wandered over to the refreshment table and ladled himself a plastic cup of punch. He drained it in less time than it took to ladle it out and instantly regretted it. Kool-Aid or Crystal Light or some other too-sweet powdered drink mix that normal teenagers were supposed to like. Grimacing, Quatre disposed of his cup and threw himself onto a bench pushed up against the wall. _Why did I let Trowa talk me into this?_

"Excuse me?!" A full, dusty-rose skirt pulled suddenly into Quatre's view, startling him. Slowly, he looked up to see the dimly-lit, but still pretty face of a girl with black hair, brown eyes and the facial expression of one who looked like she was being tortured. She was shouting over the music. "Is this seat taken?!"

"No!" Quatre yelled back. "Have a seat!"

"Thank you!" She sat, gracefully flicking her long raven hair over her smooth shoulder. "Did your date ditch you, too!?"

"No!" Quatre screamed back. "My date's off…somewhere!"

The girl shrugged and plopped her chin in her hands. "I absolutely _loathe_ thesedances!"

"Me too! Here!" Quatre leaned over to speak normally in the girl's ear. "I'm Quatre Raberba Winner."

The girl leaned over to speak in Quatre's ear. "Quite a hefty handle, Quatre Raberba Winner. I'm Mira Fraser." She stuck out her hand.

Quatre took the proffered hand and shook it. As he did, he noticed a barcode tattooed to the inside of her wrist. "You're a survivor, right?"

Mira blushed and looked at her lap. "I tried to find gloves to cover the tattoo, but I couldn't get any that went with my dress." She sighed. "Right. You'll probably want the whole song and dance, right? The whole school knows my story, so what's one more person? I was abducted as a toddler by Black Hood because I was born a telekinetic and was rescued at the age of fifteen." She leaned in closer, her hot breath tickling pleasantly against the rim of Quatre's ear. "You might just want to leave me alone now. I understand if you don't want to associate a telekinetic."

In spite of himself, Quatre grinned. "No need. I'm an empath."

Mira's frame immediately relaxed. "Get out!" She slapped Quatre lightly on the shoulder. "Where's your date?"

"Out and about, I guess." He rolled his eyes. "She's my best friend's sister. Somehow he managed to wheedle me into coming, so here I am." The blond Arab shrugged. "And look at all the oodles of fun I'm having."

"Lucky you. My date said he'd meet me here and then he came with some other Federation girl." Biting her lip, Mira sighed. "He said I deserved it because I'm a freak. Maybe he's right."

Hot, acrid anger welled up in Quatre then. Without thinking, he grabbed Mira's arm and pulled her to her feet. Mira's eyes were wide as he grabbed her other hand. Suddenly Quatre realised that he was giving her a death glare that would have made it look like Heero had just be squinting all this time. Startled himself at his behaviour, Quatre let his face fall into a relaxed smile. "C'mon. Let's go outside. This bass is driving me insane."

Gratefully, Mira nodded and followed him outside.

*****

Watching Quatre and the raven-haired girl leave, Cathy set down her yucky powdered drink and smiled. Pulling a quarter from her purse, she left the cafeteria and went to the payphones. Dropping the coin into the slot, Cathy quickly pecked out the number.

"Hello, Gil?" she said. "No, no, I'm okay. Yeah. Yeah the dance is fine. Do you think I could get a ride home?" She paused for the answer, giving the evil eye and the middle finger to some teenage punk who was openly checking her out. His parting comment –which Cathy was sure he meant to be clever- was drowned out by Gil's worried voice. "No, no, Quatre's car is fine." She cast a knowing smile in the direction of the cafeteria. "It's just that I think I've been replaced."

*****

"This is so perfect," Relena sighed, pressing closer to Heero as they danced. Nodding, Heero wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, secretly revelling in how it felt to have her so close to him.

Surreptitiously, Heero leaned in to breath in the scent of Relena's hair. Almost lazily, his mind flicked to the advice Belle had given him before he left the house that night._ Don't push her away tonight, Heero._ Shehad said this while he waited patiently for her to fix his tie. Being the Perfect Soldier was one thing, but being the Perfect Soldier and well dressed at the same time was something else altogether._ She's far too good for that, _Belle had gone on._ Just be a gentleman and make use of your feelings._

The Perfect Soldier making use of his feelings, Heero thought._ How ironic._

The sudden sensation of Relena's body quaking made Heero glance down. His dancing partner was biting her lip and her face was pink from withheld laughter. The Perfect Soldierlooked at her. "What's so funny?"

"T-T-Trowa and Kari," Relena giggled, muffling her face with his shirt. Heero decided he kind of liked this. "Look at his neck!"

Discreetly, Heero danced Relena around in a semicircle to look at Trowa and Kari. They danced not more than ten or twelve feet away, a radius of empty space around them. Heero had expected this. It was the first time Kari had gone out in public without her eyes bound and it was bound to cause at least a little discomfort. Trowa had his back to Heero just then, giving the Perfect Soldier a perfect view of the back of his neck, which was glowing an attractive shade scarlet at the moment. The couple was also dancing about a foot and a half away from each other, not wanting to dance so far away, but too shy to come any closer. 

Still in Heero's arms, Relena rolled her eyes. "What are we going to do with them?"

From his place not far above her, Heero allowed himself a smug little smile. "Watch."

His arms still loosely wrapped around Relena's waist, Heero caught the eyes of another couple dancing across the floor. The guy was big, burly and blond, while the girl was small, dark, lithe thing in a black dress. Heero knew the guy, an ex-Black Hood fighter who now went by the name of Nick, from his English class and he had met Feather, an ex-fighter who opted for keeping her original name and Nick's steady girlfriend. Though he was loath to admit that he had any emotional ties to anyone, Heero quite liked the couple. Their shared "let the world go to hell if it wants to" attitude reminded him of himself. Discreetly, Heero made a quick gesture at Trowa and Kari before pressing his palms together behind Relena's back. Nick looked confusedly at him for a moment before Feather reached up and murmured in his ear. The male ex-fighter grinned evilly and nodded. Heero nodded back.

"Follow my lead," he murmured to Relena about a nanosecond before stepping up his pace and whisking her across the dance floor, and action which almost knocked the poor girl over. Nick and Feather followed suit, and together the two couples swiftly began to close the gap between themselves and Trowa and Kari. Like a finely tuned machine, the two couples closed the distance and danced head-on into Kari and Trowa's backs, squishing the two together before deftly swinging away.

*****

****

That was evil, Kari grumbled, burrowing her face into Trowa's shoulder. Despite her grousing, he could feel her smiling against him.

"Yeah," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "Quite a shame, wouldn't you say?" Gently, Trowa let his fingers twine themselves into Kari's long, blonde hair. There was a long pause as the couple swayed lazily to the slow, sweet music. "You know we'll have to thank them later."

****

Yeah. Kari raised her head to look at him, her lower lip caught between perfect white teeth. **Trowa?**

"Mmmm?" 

****

What are we?

__

Uh, oh. "Uh…we're dancing."

****

Not funny. Are we friends? Or are we… Under the flashing lights in the cafeteria the ex-fighter blushed hotly. **You _know_.**

"I'm not sure." _This is so hard! _"I'd like to be…something."

Grinning all of a sudden, Kari cocked an eyebrow. _We'd better get started, then._

"How do we -_mmph_!!" Trowa's eyes flew wide open as Kari darted upwards and firmly planted her lips on his. Over her head, Trowa could see Relena and Heero on the sidelines, grinning madly at him. Relena was even giving him the thumbs up! The Silencer tried to resist the urge to give them the finger. Kari tugged his ear.

****

Less looky, more kissy.

Trowa couldn't help but smile against her. _I can do that._

*****

"Daaah-ling, I want nothing more than to spend my forever with you…."

__

This is movie so boring! Stifling a yawn, Duo helped himself to some more Doritos before sneaking another look at Misty, whose eyes were hopelessly glued to the screen. They had been in the Broman family TV room for about an hour now, Misty watching intently a mushy chick flick Duo thought she would like, while Duo sat back and formulated his plan of attack. So far his luck with it hadn't been very good. 

__

Okay, so stretch casual-like and wrap my arm around her shoulders and- nah. Too corny. Duo frowned_. Maybe if I reach down and grab her hand. Wait, no. Her good hand is on the other side. _

"Pass the dip?" Misty's voice cut into Duo's desperate planning. Wordlessly, Duo handed the little plastic tub to her and resumed forming his plan of attack. 

__

Maybe if I put my hand on her knee… Duo heaved a mental sigh. _Unless I want a hardened plaster cast in the face._ "Uh, Misty?"

"Mmmm?" Slowly, she tore her gaze away from the passionately kissing couple onscreen to regard Duo, who was madly trying to think of what next to say. "Yeah?"

"Uh…er…." _Dammit!!_ "Are you…cold?"

A slight blush tinged Misty's cheeks where there were no bruises. "A little bit," she confessed. Clad in a T-shirt and jeans, the red-haired bard rubbed her bare arms.

Yesssss! We have an opening!! Duo literally leapt from his seat on the couch and whipped off his suit jacket. "Here!" Without hesitation, he wrapped it around her, albeit a little bit too enthusiastically.

"Ow! Duo, my ribs!!"

"Sorry."

Kindly, Misty smiled at him. "'S okay," she said, patting his knee. After a moment, Duo noticed with more than a tiny mote of triumph that she left her hand there. "Duo?"

"Yeah," Duo said absently, wondering if he should put his hand on hers or pretend to be cool about it. The red-haired bard's hand was small and smooth and it all but glowed in the dim light against the dark fabric of his trousers. 

__"Thank you for keeping me calm." She paused, searching for the right words. "You know. When you and Heero…found me."

"No prob."_ Now or never, Shinigami. _Gulping in a deep breath, Duo reached over and wrapped his arm carefully around Misty's thin shoulders, almost whooping for joy when she shifted over to lean on him. Tentatively, he stroked her hair. "If worse ever came to worse, I wouldn't hesitate to do it again." Gulping in another hasty draught of air, Duo leaned in, letting his violet eyes drink deeply the sight of her. 

"You smell good," Duo ventured shyly, watching Misty's soft mouth curve into a bashful smile. "Do you…taste good, too?" 

Misty blushed. "Maybe. You might have to conduct an experiment on me, I guess," she said, suddenly saucy. "For educational purposes, of course."

Minding her injuries, Duo leaned the rest of the way in. "Of course," he murmured, closing the scant gap between them and capturing her lips within the confines of his own.

__

Oh, wow…

Finally, after a moment and a scant eternity, they broke apart, flushed and breathing hard. Misty grinned impishly at Duo, her minute fingers playing with the flyaway hairs at the base of his braid. "Very nice, Mr. Maxwell, but unless I'm mistaken, to conduct a valid experiment, one must conduct it several times to see if it's correct." Darting in, she gave his lower lip a hasty nip.

"Ahhhh….that would be correct, Miss Broman." Grinning devilishly, the Great Shinigami grabbed Misty by the waist and laid a long, wet one on her. He could feel her twining her fingers into the base of his braid again, stimulating the sensitive roots and sending shivers up and down his spine. Tenderly he responded by running his fingers along the delicate bend of her throat.

"A_hem_."

His face suddenly frozen in what he supremely hoped wasn't pure horror, Duo looked waaaaaay up to see the stern face of Ali Broman looming over him. Looking down again, Duo saw there was a two litre bottle of Coke in his enormous hand.

"I was going to ask if you guys wanted something to drink," the huge Druid rumbled. "But I see you two are a bit busy at the moment."

Duo felt his face begin to flame. "Mr. Broman, I-"

Ali raised his free hand. "Calm down, son. I'm not some cranky overprotective ogre." He raised an eyebrow. "Just be glad it's me up here and not my wife." Setting down the Coke, the tall Arab man shrugged and turned to leave. "By the way," he said over his shoulder, "keep those nosy teenage hands of yours above the shoulders."

"DAA-AAD!!!!"

*****

It was almost ten o'clock on semiformal night and as a result, business at the local McDonald's was –to put it in serious managerial terms- deader than a doornail. To say it was merely sluggish would be a vast improvement. His eyes intent on some menial task set before him, the manager –a stocky, middle-aged man with thinning hair and a massive paunch that was the object of great amusement among the lesser ranks- let his eyes rove over the restaurant, which was empty, save for two kids off in the far corner sharing a large order of fries. Judging by the snazzy getups, the manager figured they were probably on a date or something. 

They were certainly acting in the standard date behaviour; they were laughing and chatting and tossing the occasional fries off each other. His curiosity piqued, the manager grabbed a spare cloth and spritz bottle and set off, meandering his way over to them, stopping every now and then to flick at a tabletop or two with the cloth. Finally, he got close enough to hear what they were saying.

"So there I was, just about to have my landlord over for dinner," the girl, a pretty thing in a dusky rose dress, said gesturing with a fry. "When I find the kid I watch in the afternoon had eaten _all_ of the mushrooms I had for my beef stroganoff, got sick and ralphed right into my _only_ cooking pot all over the other ingredients inside." She laughed ruefully. "I ended up serving up take-out Chinese food that night."

The blond guy sitting across from her flashed a wide, perfect grin. From where he was bent over a nearby table, the manager wondered if the kid was a model. He certainly had the smile down. "Ooh, gross!" He chewed thoughtfully on a fry a moment, racking his brain for his own horror story. "Here's one," he said after a moment. "When I was little, around six, I had a nurse who loved to cook. Italian, French, Japanese, you name it, she made it. One day she was making a cake or something and there was this huge bag of sugar on the counter, maybe twenty pounds of it or so. Anyway, one way or another I ended up crawling up there and knocking it over and spilling it all over the floor. There was so much I couldn't see the tile underneath. Twenty pounds of sugar _at least, _all over the floor."

"Oh, man!" The girl squeezed his hand. "What did you do?"

The boy flushed in embarrassment. "I kinda…ate the evidence. They found me bouncing around like an idiot on the roof about an hour later."

The manager winced. _Ouch._

Laughing hysterically, the girl wiped her eyes. "Oh! Oh! That's just priceless!!" Beside her, the cheap foil ashtray on the table next to them rose about a foot into the air and hung there. 

__

A freak, the manager thought in disgust. The owner didn't allow any of his employees to give freaks the boot, a fact that made the manager, a card-carrying Federation for Human Purity member, furious. Still, despite his crazy policy, the owner wasn't there that night, leaving the manager in charge. He slapped the wet cloth on the table in front of him, making both teenagers jump. Next to them, the ashtray clattered to the tabletop. 

"I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," the manager said, glaring at them. "I don't want any damned _freaks_ fouling up my restaurant."

To the manager's triumph, the girl jerked back as if burned, looking as if she was about to cry. _Hah, _the manager thought gleefully to himself. _Serves the little freak-bitch right. _

A silken noise, the sound of cloth rubbing on cloth made the manager look over. The blond boy was standing not more than a foot away from him, his eyes narrowed to slits of aquamarine. 

"Oh, really?" he said. Involuntarily the manager backed a step away. There was something in that voice. It wasn't malice, nor was it anger, but the tone of it suggested that if the manager didn't play nice, something _very_ unpleasant would happen. And those eyes! Just a second ago the kid was laughing and giggling without a hint of anything even close to malice. But now he looked like nothing would please him more than to tear the manager limb from limb. "May I have a word with the manager?" It was not a request.

"Eh…he's…not here," the manager stammered, forcing himself to keep from looking away. Those damned blue-green eyes seemed to bore right into his skull. 

"Oh well now…." The boy smiled at him like a snake. "That's a whole different matter, isn't it?"

The manager fought the urge to say "yessir" and simply nodded his head. Suddenly the boy seemed ten feet tall.

The kid stepped forward. "I'm a 'freak' too, y'know." He stepped forward again, forcing the manager onto his heels. "That makes it two against one."

Wordlessly, the manager nodded.

"You wouldn't want to do something so stupid as to anger two fully-trained freaks, do you? Hmmm?" Coldly, delicately, he flicked a bead of sweat from the older man's brow and sniffed. "No. I didn't think so."

Finally, the manager screwed up what little courage he had. "Who, who says you can even do anything? Maybe you're both just clones or something. Maybe that ashtray is all that girlfriend of yours can do."

"Maybe." The boy shrugged, and there was something almost tangibly condescending about it. "But then again maybe not. I trust you've heard the rumours regarding us?"

Swallowing, the manager nodded. "Yeah."

The boy leaned far in, his lips brushing against the manager's ear as he spoke. "Do you_ really_ want to find out how many of them are true?"

*****

"That was _incredible_!" Mira's brown eyes were wide as saucers as she and Quatre calmly left McDonalds, leaving the manager to sit quietly inside and shit himself. A cool autumn wind played over the two, causing Quatre to be a gentleman and wrap his arm around Mira's shoulders. Feeling the dove-softness of her skin and the slight tickle of her hair fanning over his wrist, Quatre quickly came to the conclusion that chivalry is _very_ good.

"Y'know, I didn't know you could get a lifetime of free meals there," Mira continued. 

Grinning, Quatre squeezed her shoulder. "You probably couldn't before tonight."

Together they laughed and Quatre was struck with how pretty Mira looked when she laughed, tossing her mane of thick hair the colour of jet and revealing perfect, white teeth. As they got to his car, the thought of the guy who had stood her up and was now missing out on this came to him then. _Damn. What an moron._

__

Beep-beep!

The tinny sound of his watch beeping pulled Quatre from his reverie. Holding it up to catch the bounty of the streetlights overhead, he read one am, or more distressing, a half-hour past his curfew. Swearing in Arabic, Quatre pulled his keys out and unlocked the passenger side door for Mira. 

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm late," Quatre moaned, getting in and starting the engine. He let it idle a minute to let the car warm up. "Gil and Belle are going to kill me!"

"Whoa, whoa, _Gil_ and _Belle_?" Mira held her hands up in a "hold on" gesture. "Gil and Belle _Ichara_?"

Concentrating on not adding smashing into parked cars onto his list of offences for the night, Quatre's reply was distant. "Yeah. I live with them."

"Then you've been to Alaryan's Keep!!"

"Yeah. I came through the Bond." Carefully, Quatre merged into traffic. "Where do you live, by the way?"

"Corner of Spruce and Gregory," Mira said impatiently. "What's the Keep like? Have you met the Broman family?"

A flash of insight hit Quatre then, one he would thank his lucky stars for later. "Why don't I show you?"

"No way! You really mean it?" Mira's delighted cry made Quatre almost miss a red light. "I'd love to!"

"So I gathered," Quatre grinned. "Are you free on Sunday?"

"Yeah! Oh, turn here."

Presently, the car turned into the parking lot of a modest apartment complex. At Mira's insistence, Quatre ended up walking her to her door, inadvertantly creating the most awkward situation of any teenager's dating history: the good night.

"Uh…." _What do I say?_ Quatre smiled awkwardly. ""Well…."

"I had fun tonight," Mira said slowly. "And…I can't wait for Sunday. You have my number, right?"

Quatre slapped his pockets. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Smiling, Mira unlocked the door to her apartment, but made no move to open it or step inside. "Call me tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

"Well…thank you for a wonderful evening." She bit her lip. "G'night, Quatre." Quickly, the little telekinetic reached up and brushed her lips against Quatre's before turning to head inside. 

Quatre would spend the rest of that night lying awake in his bed wondering what the hell made him do it, but he reached out and grabbed Mira's arm, pulled her close and lay a long, passionate kiss on her. To his surprise and delight, Mira returned the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. But, as is the case with anything good, too much is possible and after a few heavenly minutes, Quatre and Mira ran out of air and reluctantly –thought still breathlessly- broke away from their first kiss. 

"Wow," was all Quatre could say.

"Yeah." Mira smiled back at him and peck his lower lip. "See you Sunday, Quatre."

"Sleep well, Mira."

Then the door to her apartment closed and she was gone, leaving Quatre to fight the urge to little victory dance. At least, until he made it safely to the sanctity of the elevator.

"Eee-YESSSSSS!!!!!" he crowed, punching the "lobby" button and pumping his fist in the air. 

****

Quatre, dearest? 

__

Belle!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

****

She's a good girl, darling. You chose well.

Uhm…thanks, Belle.

And you plan on seeing her on Sunday, do you? Belle's mental voice was coy as Quatre made his way back to the parking lot.

**Yeah.** Even though Sunday was the day after tomorrow –or simply tomorrow, depending on how one looked at it- Quatre suddenly couldn't wait for it to come. **It'll be _great_! **

That's good to know, because seeing as it is now past one-thirty, starting Monday morning, you're grounded.

Awww, Belle…. Even as Quatre complained, he touched his mouth, feeling still the pressure of Mira's lips on hers. Getting into his car, he grinned. _It was so worth it._

*****

__

**Sigh** At last! The dance is over! I can get back to senseless violence!!!! Yaaay!!!

Ja ne, minna-san!

--LPD *//.^*


	23. Mortis Gour

__

Just when you thought I was dead….

Okay, here's my lame-ass excuse for the looooong wait: it's Christmas break right now –in fact, today is Christmas day itself. Right after I finished the last chapter, the Magic Schoolwork Dump Truck pulled up to my school and emptied itself into my locker. I was doing hours of the stuff a night!! And then I got a new job. And then_ I had to get my shopping done. Needless to say, the typing sorta got shoved right onto the backburner. Geez. Anyhoo, thanks to all the Alaryan's Keep fans who wrote me in the meantime and reminded me that, surprise, I'm not the only one who reads this fic. Anyway, happy holidays and have a great new year!!! –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*_

Me no_ own Gundam Wing. So no sue. Me _yes_ own everything else. So no steal._

*****

Darien sighed, his eyes fixed on Walker's still form floating in the isotube. Aside from a neglected pack of cigarettes Dulcet had left behind and a cup of stone cold coffee, the dark-haired man was nearly alone with only his brother and the quiet buzz of the fluorescent lights to keep him company. Presently, he was having a one-sided conversation with his heavily sedated twin. 

__

Do you remember grade eleven history? Darien mused, playing absently with the coffee cup. _It was the Roman chariot race. Remember that? _

Darien and Walker had been sixteen and in the same class at St. Mark's when the annual chariot race came up. The premise was simple: build a chariot in teams and race it around the track, one riding, the others pulling on the track outside the school. The winner got bonus marks. Walker and Darien naturally chose to work together, planning a chariot that would blow the rest out of the water. It took them all of three weeks, but they did it. It stood on race day among the throngs of wood and cardboard, a heavily spiked creation of iron accented with bronze; a favour from Glas and Ciaran in the Keep forge. Clad in flowing senatorial garb, Mr. O'Flaherty dropped his scarf and the chariots were off, the Broman twins' chariot going straight into the head of the pack. With a sizeable lead, the boys raced to the finish line, but it soon became apparent that they had overlooked a fundamental law of physics: the weight of a solid iron chariot does not allow for a quick stop. So, clad in a bed sheet toga and tiny for his age, Walker took matters into his own hands. Darien still remembered how the crowd had gone absolutely silent as Walker flared his wings to their full span and took the force into the muscles in his back, eyes blazing, minuscule fist raised, voice declaring "I AM CAESAR!!" as they crossed the finish line. The applause they got as they passed the finish line was incredible, although Walker didn't stick around to see much of it. He left with great royal dignity to the boys' washroom so he could groan about his torn muscles in private as they began to heal. And after that, a shy, dark-haired girl by the name of Amy Gagneir asked Walker later on if he was free for a movie sometime that weekend. 

__

We scared our opponents shitless, bud, Darien grinned in spite of himself._ You almost made Mr. O'Flaherty cheer himself to death._

A high-pitched beep to Darien's left made him glance over. Walker's intravenous feeding was complete. Although Dulcet had estimated it would be at least two weeks until Walker was strong enough to leave the isotube and perhaps a week until he could even open his eyes, Darien already knew what he and his twin would eat as soon as Walker's stomach was regulated again. Smiling slightly, Darien imagined a huge, greasy pizza with everything on it, a pound –no, _two _pounds- of extra spicy Buffalo wings, maybe some ribs –Walker and Darien both liked ribs- plenty of beer and Walker sitting in front of it all with a huge grin on his face. 

__

I love you, bro. Darien's smile grew hopeful as he saw Walker's index finger flex slightly. He would have to tell Dulcet about that. Movement was always a good sign. _Hang in there, bud._

"Lord Darien!!" 

Darien whirled around, whipping his sword from the sheath at his waist. The blade whistled thought the air, the tip stopping barely a centimetre from the throat of a trembling, terrified Bhaarliad boy not more than twelve years old. Taking a deep breath, Darien fought the urge to scream at him and stepped away, sheathing his sword as he did. "What is it, Xaviro?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. Had he not asked that no one disturb him? 

The child took a deep breath and suddenly burst into tears. "Lord Darien!!" he moaned.

"Calm yourself, Xaviro." Darien took the quaking boy by the shoulders and sat him down in a nearby chair. The acidic scent of fear and adrenaline was thick on him. "What's wrong?" 

"A rival mage has come through the Bond, Lord Darien!" Xaviro wailed. "He says he wants to challenge Lord Walker!"

__

Shit. Darien snarled in spite of himself, making Xaviro step fearfully back. Perfect timing, of course. "Which magic type is he?"

Xaviro shivered. "Black magic. You can tell by all the occult charms hanging off his belt. And he's an arrogant one at that. He just popped out of nowhere when the men were going to the Gateways to tend the fields and demanded to battle 'this so-called great mage known as Walker Broman'. We managed to get him in a guest room under the pretence of letting him rest up, but we only have so much time before he gets bored and…and…." The little Bhaarliad boy shivered, his ruby-hued head glinting in the florescent light. "Laylia was walking by with Maaler when the mage was being taken to his apartments, Lord Darien." 

Darien nodded. Laylia was a female human mercenary who had recently come through the Bond while pregnant. The child, named Maaler, was born at the Keep not more than four months ago and was already a favourite among the citizens. "Yes?" he pressed.

"Well, she was walking by when Maaler began to squall and that mage, casual as can be, said something about noisy bastard children, hefted his staff and whipped a fireball about twice the size of my head at them."

Darien's eyes narrowed. "Are they-?"

Xaviro shook his head. "No. Laylia dove out of the way. And then that damn bastard mage just threw back that ugly head of his and laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. Then he said that we have only a few hours before he 'reduces this piece of shit excuse for a Keep to a smoking pile of rubble'."

"Really." Darien's eyes narrowed further as his mind whirled in rapid thought. "The wizards, Gaelin and Declan and I might be able to hold him for a little while if we need to." He pursed his lips. Gaelin and Declan were a set of fully human twins Darien and Walker had known since first grade. Both were very talented bards, much like Misty, and Walker and Darien's oldest and most trusted friends. "I'm sure the other magic users in the Keep would help us out as well." 

Xaviro shook his head again. "No Lord. He's a very powerful one, this new mage. I could feel his power from where I was standing. Ugh! It was a feeling that would make you retch. Black magic mixed with the occult."

"Mmm. Evil magic." Darien tapped his lips. "This is not good."

"How can you be so calm!?" Wild-eyed, Xaviro almost screamed at him. "This man had resolved to fight Lord Walker or make pebbles out of the Keep!"

"Indeed. That would be why I'm remaining calm." Darien stole a glance at Walker, his form still motionless in his 'tube. "I'll run around screaming like a scared little girl when I have the time. Right now I want you to run and get Dulcet, the wizards, Gaelin and Declan and tell them to come here." The young man cocked his head in the direction of his brother's isotube. "We need a way to wake Walker up."

*****

"You stupid bitch! How many times must I repeat myself!?" The young mage screamed. Lashing out, he struck the Bhaarliad woman across the mouth, hurling her to the floor. "I wanted _Arjunan red_! Not this rancid sow's piss you call wine!" The mage accentuated his point by throwing the brimming pitcher over the woman –hardly more than a girl, really- who was trying desperately to keep herself from crying. 

"But we haven't any Arjunan red!" She cried, not daring to sit up. The way the man's eyes flared coupled with his immense power was enough to keep anyone still. "I don't even know what Arjunan _is_!"

Regally, the young mage drew himself up. "So be it, little whore. Bring me a pitcher of your best wine. White this time. Perhaps it may be a fraction more palatable than the shit you just gave me, though I doubt it." He eyed her. "Well? What are you waiting for? Move!!"

The girl bolted to her feet, snatched up the pitcher and ran from the room in a blind panic. 

"Stupid bitch," the mage murmured and glanced out the narrow window of his room. Judging by the passage of the sun, he had been kept waiting for three hours. He narrowed his eyes.

Mortis Gour, all-powerful mage, did not like to be kept waiting.

__

Pitiful excuse for a Keep, he decided, sauntering to the huge gilt mirror on the wall and inspecting his reflection. Meticulously, he smoothed back his coal black hair and stroked the errant hairs back into his closely cropped beard. _I'll have to remember to destroy it after I kill that Lord Walker fellow._ Mage Gour sniffed. For the last couple of years, all of his colleagues had been whispering about some all-powerful keeper of the Bond –whatever that was- and how it was rumoured that he could not be beaten. Gour sniffed. Just wait. He would destroy this weak young man; a _child_, no less, of twenty-three! Granted, Gour was no more than forty himself, a mere baby in the eyes of other centuries-old magic users, but he was so much more educated. He was a mage devoted to black magic, raised and trained by the best. Where he was from, laymen called him the "Blood Lord" and as Mortis Gour thought of all the times he had waded in the blood of innocents, laughing for the pure sweetness of it, he supposed the name suited him. Needless to say, Gour knew the battle would be short-lived. Meditating on this, Gour wondered idly how his colleagues liked the little "gift" he'd left them before he had departed. A very nice job, if he did say so himself, although it was a pity she hadn't screamed as much as he would have liked her to. 

Sitting down in a chair, Gour reclined slightly, bringing his staff, an ornately carved wooden masterpiece that was ten feet long when fully extended, into his lap. Rumour had it that Lord Walker did not even bother with _using_ a staff, let alone with carrying one! Gour grinned, already imagining the sweet, hot wetness of this young mage's blood staining his hands. _I suppose I'll take his head with me a souvenir, if he's handsome, _he decided and looked again at the sun shining through the window. He would give them one more hour. And after that….

Mortis Gour smiled. For the people of Alaryan's Keep, there would be no "after that".

*****

"I'm telling you for the last time! I can't just make Walker magically wake up!" Dulcet's voice was getting shriller and shriller each time he said again what he had been trying to get across for the last five minutes. "I'm not Hou-friggin'-dini, dammit!"

"Then it's been nice knowing you, Dulcet," Talon said dryly from the empty isotube he was leaning on. "Perhaps we could bunk together in Heaven."

Dulcet swore angrily under his breath. "I'm not saying I _won't_, I'm saying I _can't_!"

From where he stood by the doorframe, Zach whipped around to look at the catlike doctor. "Bullshit!" he snapped. "There's a black mage with enough power to destroy a small solar system and as sure as I stand here, cat-boy, you are going to figure out something and you are going to wake my grandson up!"

"Calm yourself, Zach," Gil said gently. "Losing your temper –not to mention your voice- won't help us now." He made a "calm down" gesture with his hands before folding them behind his back and pacing the length of the room. "Okay. We need Walker to be up and functioning, correct? Well, then perhaps all we need is an alternate power source for him to operate on instead of making him rely on what little energy he has." 

Dulcet face brightened a moment before darkening again as he thought the idea over. "Not possible," he said finally, shaking his head. "I haven't got a power source even half large enough for what Walker would need to do."

"Dammit, we need to do _something_!" Nat suddenly exploded. "I refuse to just sit here and watch as some pompous three-year-old with too much power punches a hole through the Keep!"

"But what can we do?" Gaelin said quietly from the console he and his brother were sitting on. Walker and Darien's best friends, they were both fair-skinned with brown eyes and deep auburn hair that just barely brushed their ears. Unlike most of the human who worked and lived at the Keep, they chose to remain in their normal street clothes and leave off the more Keep-ish clothes for special occasions. The only real physical difference between them was that the front part of Declan's hair was bleached platinum blond so others could tell him and Gaelin apart. He often joked it was that or tattoo his name on his forehead. 

Gaelin bit his lip. "Couldn't we reason with the guy?"

"Nah, he doesn't sound like the type that talks," Declan said with a wave of his hand, lightly callused with years of coaxing beautiful music from various instruments. Louder and bolder than his gentle twin, Declan normally spoke a lot more. "I say we all just go and blast this guy's ass to bits."

"It's not that simple, child," Zach disagreed, shaking his head. "Look, if we put our powers together we could only destroy an area from here to about Toronto." 

"Yeah?" Declan frowned. "That's nice, but I fail to see-"

"Estimates show that a typical mage's full radius of destruction is much larger."

"Oh?" murmured Gaelin. "How far does it reach from here?"

"Saturn."

"Ah."

"Ooookay, so maybe ganging up on him was a bad idea," Declan conceded. "Who's up for getting him really drunk and chucking him headfirst into the Moat?"

Gaelin groaned and put his head in his hands.

"He's arrogant, not a simpleton, dumbass." With this withering rebuke, Talon began to tap a hollow tattoo on the plastic casing of the isotube he was leaning on. "Face it. We're doomed."

Declan's face turned red. "At least I'm _trying_!" he shouted.

"Not very hard, obviously," Talon shot back.

"I have an idea," Darien said from where he was sitting, in a chair next to Walker's 'tube, calm as could be. The wizards and bards looked to him in surprise. So far he hadn't volunteered so much as a single word.

"You know a way to make this Gour fellow spare us?" Gil queried, his curiosity piqued.

Darien smiled and stood, stretching lazily like a cat. "Nope. But I _do_ know how we can get Walker in on the fight. Listen up…." 

*****

__

Don't worry, folks, I'm already almost done with the next chapter. It should_ be up for the new year. Until then!_

Ja ne, minna-san!

L.P.D. *//.^*


	24. Treachery

__

See? I told you I'd get this posted for the new year! This chapter's a lot longer to make up for the last one. Just a little note about this chapter before we begin: Aside from the warning that there is a considerable amount of violence and blood in this chapter, I'm not a doctor, so if the injuries I describe are waaaaay off, then try to be nice about it, okay? Biology wasn't my best class last year. Anyway, enjoy and please review! –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

I don't own Gundam Wing. But I do own everything else. So don't steal it or I'll sic the Christmas leftovers in my fridge, which are already taking their very first steps, on you!

*****

By the movement of the sun, Mortis Gour decided it had been an hour. Triumphantly, he raised himself from his chair and plucked his staff from where it stood, unaided, in the middle of the floor.

He had warned them. Gour gave the staff a brisk twirl to warm himself up._ Perhaps I'll fill the halls with liquid fire and listen to the little beggars scream,_ he thought idly._ Or perhaps molten lead? I like molten lead._ The mage suddenly smiled like a snake._ After I get my pick of the wenches, of course. Who knows? Having a lizard-woman could very well prove to be quite interesting._

A brisk knock at the door made the black mage look over. "Enter!" he called, irritated at the hold up. Hopefully, the visit would be quick. Gour had a busy afternoon ahead of him.

A pair of handsome identical young men came in. Gour surveyed their odd clothing with regal disgust. Peasants, probably. "Well, what is it?" The black mage gripped his staff irritably. "If it's about begging for another hour…."

"On behalf of Walker, lord of Alaryan's Keep," one of them -an impertinent-looking fellow with yellow streaked into the bangs of his deep auburn hair- said, "your offer of a duel by magic has been accepted."  
"Really…." A minor delay. Nothing more. He gestured at the young man like a king would gesture to his lowest of servants. "Bring him to me."

"On the contrary, sir, he is already been kept waiting for about a quarter of an hour now." The young man barely suppressed a smirk. "_You'll_ have to go and see _him_."

Mortis Gour bristled at this sleight, but kept his visage calm. "Bring me to him, then."

"Righty-o, O Great Magical One!" The yellow-red-haired twin chirped, drawing himself up. 

"You dare mock me, boy!?" Gour roared.

"Who? Me? Nooooo…." Wide-eyed, the yellow-red-haired twin clasped his hands in front of him. Behind him, the other twin, who had said nothing the entire time, looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh and strangle his brother at the same time. Yellow-red-hair grinned at Gour. "Shall we?"

_Impertinent fellow,_ Gour decided, allowing himself to be lead from the apartments. _I'll kill him last._

*****

The field in front of the Keep wall was like any other in the area. It was covered in short, scrubby grass, cropped close by hungry livestock and faded to shades of dingy brown by chill weather. The occasional boulder broke the monotony, but other than that and the occasional herd of sheep, nothing very interesting ever happened in it.

It was in this field that enough power to destroy two solar systems stood face-to-face, ready to do battle. 

Mortis Gour stood ramrod straight with regal conceit, his full black robes billowing in an unseen headwind. His hands gripped loosely his ten-foot staff, it's finely-carved runes glowing with tightly reined power. Quiet tinkling bore testament to the many magical amulets on his belt. He grinned. "Ready yourself, play-mage!"

Not more than twenty feet away, Walker stood, his body compacted into a low defensive stance. His own maroon robes billowed around him, the fire embroidery at the hems writhing like actual flame. Not charms or amulets wreathed Walker's waist and his hand remained empty. Despite having been unconscious in an isotube no less than an hour ago, Walker was erect and reasonably alert. Only his voice revealed just how weary he truly was. 

"We'll see," was all he said. 

*****

High above, away from the action, the balconies Alaryan's Keep were packed with the multicoloured masses of humans, Bhaarliads and miscellaneous. Standing on the balcony to his office, Zach stroked his chin, waiting impatiently for the battle to begin. Most of the other wizards, Belle and Nat's wife Iondra stood with him. Peering over at the larger balcony below, he could see his daughter and son-in-law, seven-foot Ali not needing to strain to see over various heads. His grandchildren –save for Walker- were nowhere to be seen, as were Gil's children. Zach caught himself in the thought, amused that he already thought of them as such. 

"They're about to begin!" Iondra -a fiery-eyed sorceress with an ageless face and a thick mane of raven hair- shouted, using magic to augment her voice. "Put up the shields!" she ordered.

Zach braced himself as a seemingly paper-thin protective shell spread itself like oil on water up and over the entire Keep and its grounds. This was followed by much groaning and pinching of the bridge of the nose from the wizards. The magical fallout was minimal and obviously much preferred to being blown to smithereens, but it still managed to hand out a mother's mother of a headache.

"Are the dreamdrops set up?" Zach asked of Belle over his shoulder. Belle nodded, a ring of the iridescent drops wreathing her head. If Zach squinted right, he could almost make out the shimmer and wink of the twins to Belle's dreamdrops catching the light of the noonday sun. Ready to begin, Belle made a gesture with two fingers. A whirring from the dreamdrops around her told Zach they had begun recording. Two copies would be made and later studied, one directly on the battlefield and another copied from the first, up on the balcony of Zach's office. 

The elderly First Minister sighed and silently wished his grandson Godspeed. 

All was ready for battle.

*****

Back down on the battlefield, the battle was set to begin. The rules had already been decided upon: magical "shots" were to be fired in turns, no inclusion of innocents, no "accidental" Keep smashing. Pretty standard stuff. All there was left to do was figure out the order of turns.

"Who shall fire first?" Mortis Gour asked, lightly fingering his staff. The runes glowed under the subtle pressure of his fingers. "Pick quickly, mageling."

__

Great. Walker rolled his eyes, not caring if Gour saw._ A tightass._ Discreetly, he rolled his shoulders a bit, trying to ease about a week's worth of stiffness out of them. To be totally honest, he wasn't looking forward to the impending duel. One minute he recalled being in his apartments getting ready for dinner and the next he found himself waking up in an incubator, Dulcet hurriedly unsnapping and disconnecting tubes and wires and explaining to his foggy patient that there was some pompous mage that needed a good stomping. _Why me?_ he groaned to himself._ I don't want to play with him!_ All duty and jurisdiction aside, what Walker really wanted to do was go to bed and hibernate for a few nice, quiet weeks. 

Still, Walker had to admit the fact that he was up and conscious was nothing short of genius. At that exact moment, Darien was lying in his apartments, deep within the throes of a controlled coma being monitored by Dulcet. His energy was being transmitted to Walker, although the supply was indeed limited. 

"Well!?" The impatient voice of the other mage rudely yanked Walker from the land of his thoughts.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. The duel. Right." Walker licked his lips and shook his hands to be sure they were free in his sleeves. "You can start if you want."

An evil smile grew upon Gour's weasel face. "So be it, mageling."

__

I wish he'd stop calling me that. Walker sighed and readied himself to deflect a small attack. Traditionally the first few attacks were simply to feel the opponent out, so Walker did not feel that he had to worry. _Well, onwards we go._

The rival mage took his hands from his staff, leaving it to stand on its own. Meticulously, he spread his fingers and began to pull his hands away from each other while his voice began to drone a deep, hissing chant. Form where he stood, Walker could see the oily, dark strands of black magic stretching between them. Slowly, carefully, Gour began to weave them together, hands and voice picking up speed as he went on. A sudden jolt of surprise shot through Walker, neatly spearing his boredom. The web of magic grew around his opponent and began sliding outward to encircle him. This wasn't a simple "feeling out" spell! The sky began to darken overhead as the web spread over the two men and fused into a solid dome. A feeling of pure dread began to fill the younger mage as all light was slowly blotted out. 

"Oh, shit…."

Gour's voice sounded smug in the darkness. "Indeed." A loud, painful grinding told Walker the dome was expanding. Inside it, even with his advanced senses, Walker could see nothing. "Welcome to my first spell, mageling."

"Thanks," Walker said dryly to the darkness. 

"No need to be saucy. What's say we make this into a game?" Gour's voice was full of sick joviality.

"Like chess you mean?" Walker made to move his foot and realised there was nothing there to stand on. Irately, he allowed himself to float.

"Of course! And just to make it interesting, why not add some pawns?" 

__

Oh, no, Walker's heart dropped.

"Mmmm…" Gour made a show of thinking. "Perhaps thisgroup?" 

The confused voices of the ex-pilots filled Walker's ears. Instinctively, he tried to use his magic, only to find it unsurprisingly locked out of reach. A bitter taste invaded Walker's mouth._ Dammit! Why did I underestimate him?_

"Ahh. They seem interesting. But more is better." The voices of Walker's two oldest sisters joined the fray. "_Much_ better."

"_Bastard!!_"

"Perhaps. But let's not bring my parents into this." The utter blackness seemed to smirk. "For that little sleight, I suppose I'll widen our little circle of friends." 

A furiously shouting man's voice that Walker did not know assaulted his ears. 

"So, now that we have the pawns, here are the rules." The older mage's voice had suddenly gone silky, cutting him to the bone. "A fight to the death. If you can find me and kill me, then you win." The voice laughed, cutting Walker to the bone. "But don't forget your little friends." The utter blackness began to lift, chased away by piercing white light. 

"Let the games begin."

*****

The first thing Tama noticed as she began to come to was heat. First came the oppressive, sticky heat of the jungle surrounding her. Secondly, she noticed the body heat of two teenage boys lying on top of her. Groaning, Tama sat up, shoving Duo's legs off her chest and picking Wufei's arm off her stomach. Moaning, she stood up, cracking various joints and vertebrae. 

"What the hell happened?" she groaned. More groaning came behind her as Duo and Wufei unfolded themselves and stood up. 

"Agh, I dunno," Duo groaned, leaning over to pop a crick in his back. 

Wufei sniffed the air, reminding Tama for a moment of a very short-fused bloodhound. "Well, obviously, it's hot and humid and judging by the vegetation-"

"We're not in Kansas anymore," Tama finished for him.

The boys looked blankly at her. 

"Never mind." Tama glanced up at the tall trees above her. The tiny patches of sky were stained golden pink, stabbed with the barbed spears of trees. The sun was just rising in this forsaken place. 

"Okay. Right." Tama pulled her battleaxe from her sub-space pocket, giving it a few warm-up swings. "Let's take a look around."

Duo and Wufei nodded in assent, both pulling guns from Hammer Space. There was a silken hiss as Wufei flicked out his sword, cleaving the air. Grim, humourless smiles were splayed over their young faces. Tama was suddenly struck by how old they looked. Wufei squinted down the edge of his blade, checking the sharpness. Satisfied, he stuck the gun in his waistband. "Let's go," he said.

"Not so fast." Tama reached into her pocket and fished out a small violet gem. Casually, she dropped it on the ground and crushed it under her heel. Upon lifting her foot, the red haired woman inspected the powdery yellow remains of the gem and whistled. "Daaaaamn. This place is _full_ of magic." She shook her head. "This is seriously _not_ a good situation."

"What was your first clue, genius?" Duo snorted.

Abruptly, Tama feinted at him, swinging hard with her axe, making him leap back. "Rule number one, braidy-boy: don't piss off the uber-bitch with the huge-ass axe."

"Well, _sor-ry_."

The red haired woman rolled her eyes. "Come on. We have to see if there are any others here. Stay on your guard."

And so, as the trio –the Solitary Dragon, the Great Shinigami, and the Uber-Bitch- set out into the steamy jungle.

*****

"Ugh… I think I can taste the air." Quatre moaned and sat up. Trowa and Heero were already standing over him. Trowa gave him and hand up. Quatre thanked him and then, almost automatically, he sampled the area for signs of other people. Tama, Wufei and Duo were a few miles westward and Ria was just coming to not more than ten miles south of them. Roth, who Quatre just barely knew, was somewhere far off. Carefully, Quatre tried to catch up to Walker's mind, but all he got was mental static. So…Walker was covering his tracks. Mortis Gour's residue was all over the place, making him impossible to pinpoint. Suddenly, a small, icy shiver crawled its way up his spine. There were other…things out there, too. Dark things. Evil things. Things Quatre hoped and prayed they would never meet up with.

Abruptly, he snapped his eyes open. "We have to keep moving," he said. "We're not alone here." Trowa and Heero shrugged and nodded. Immediately, on Quatre's instruction, they moved south-west to find Ria and eventually Tama, Duo and Wufei. Also on Quatre's advice, they had their guns out, wary of every movement and strange sound. Still, even with a gun in his hand, Quatre did not feel entirely safe. Something was out there, and it thirsted for their blood.

*****

The sun had already began her descent into the sky by the time Walker managed to seek out Gour's scent trail. Relatively speaking, it had been quite simple. The arrogant man's clothing was all but drenched in heavily perfumed oils and the stuff he used to slick back his hair by itself was enough to track on alone. But among the clots of strong-smelling flowers and rancid-sweet rotting vegetation, Walker's sense of smell was heavily assaulted on all fronts.

"He's a dead man," Walker snarled, keeping his nose to the scent trail. "How dare he use innocents!" 

Pawns, Gour had called them. He called the ones Walker loved "pawns" and cast them into a wild land of trolls and dragons and lord only knew what else. And only for _fun!_

The world could easily make do without such a mage.

A harsh, guttural roar from far off made Walker prick his ears momentarily before continuing on. Troll. Probably celebrating the discovery of fresh quarry.

*****

"_What the hell is that!?!?!_" Duo all but screamed as the eight-foot behemoth lumbered towards them. It was like a walking, grunting, muscle with a gigantic spiked club.

"Troll," Tama said tersely, putting her axe in a better defensive position in front of her body. "Looks like a juvenile."

"_Juvenile?!?!_" Duo cried. "Holy shit!" His thoughts skipped back to a fairy story Sister Helen used to tell him before bedtime back on L2. The troll in _that_ story was a warty, froggy thing that stood at a jolly three feet tall. This thing was more rocky than froggy, more heavily-muscled than warty and it most certainly wasn't three foot nothing or jolly. But there was one rather more pressing detail Duo noted above all others: this thing was real. 

"Keep your voice low!" Tama hissed. "The last thing we want is for it to get upset. Here." She tossed a short spear from her sub-space pocket to Duo, who caught it awkwardly. "The sound of that gun'll just make it mad. With that thing at least you can try to intimidate it." 

"Lovely."

Wufei inched up next to Tama. "Where are its weak spots?" He asked softly, keeping one onyx eye trained on the troll, which had stopped about six metres away and was staring blankly at them. It was like a monster crudely carved from a boulder. The troll's head was small, set with tiny, piggish eyes and a jutting brow ridge. Thick, heavily muscled arms hung down to its knees, an enormous spiked club clutched in one fist. The troll's entire body was armoured in thick slabs of rock, making it seem impossible to do it any real harm. 

Tama merely shook her head. "Only in the joints, and their pretty well armoured in themselves." 

"Damn."

A _thud_ got their attention. The troll had dropped its club. Something akin to concentration seemed to dawn in the tiny eyes. Slowly, it inched forward, chest thrust out, slamming its rocky fists together. Tama groaned. 

"He's got us marked." She snarled softly. "He's claiming us as his next meal."

The charge came hard and fast, shocking even Tama with its bone-shattering speed. With a single swing of its massive arm, the three were scattered wide. Tama felt her body jar as her axe caught in the troll's stony armour, her arms and legs jerking as the troll shook the minor irritation off. Swiftly, the fire haired woman rolled with the strike and got to her feet, only to watch in horror as the behemoth snatched Duo from the ground and began shaking him like a rag doll. Though his head snapped back and forth, he remained tortuously silent, trying to keep from enraging the troll. For now, it was merely playing; curious, carefree and horribly brutal.

"_Duo!_"

Tama's eyes flew open at the raw, genuine concern in Wufei's voice._ Good lord, he's scared for Duo's safety._

"Bastard!!" Screaming curses in Mandarin, Wufei rushed the troll, sword flashing in the dim jungle light, heedless of what little effect it would have on such thick stony skin. Dully, the troll stopped shaking its prey to stare at the tiny Chinese boy coming towards him. With an almost bored ease, the troll tossed Duo –now shaken into unconsciousness- at his feet and plucked Wufei up in mid-bound. The boy was minuscule in the giant's hand, struggling and shouting, but to no avail. 

The troll hissed menacingly at him, not pleased with such a tiny threat. 

__

Please, Wufei, Tama prayed. _Please stay still. I can't help you now._

But the Solitary Dragon, enraged by his capture, continued to struggle and kick as the troll stared on, a more that mildly irritated expression coming to light on its craggy face. Suddenly, one of Wufei's kicks hit home, digging a heel deep into the monster's piggish eye. Immediately the troll's irritation flared into savage rage. Throwing back its head the monster bellowed, the harsh, booming roar gouging its way into Tama's ears. Enraged, the troll tossed Wufei into the air and caught him, one hand around the shoulders, another around the ankles, holding him like some sort of helpless toy. Without breaking the motion, the monster raised Wufei high over its head and slammed him, spine down over his knee.

The sharp, wet crack was horrendous and even Tama, from where she stood, could hear it. 

Negligently, the troll dropped Wufei in a heap at its feet and picked Duo up again, dangling him by the arms. The Great Shinigami was still unconscious, which seemed to delight the troll even more as it watched his head loll lifelessly back and forth on his shoulders. 

__

No. NO! Not him too! Tama's leg muscles snapped taut before she was even aware she was doing, throwing herself forward, her axe flashing dully in the dim jungle light. "Damn you!!"

Angrily, the troll seized Duo's arms in a tighter grip and began to pull, wrenching them in their sockets. The vicious pain made Duo's eyes snap open and a scream of utter torture was ripped from his lips. 

Immediately, Tama stopped. The troll, now satisfied, stopped pulling and returned to dangling Duo about like a rag doll.

__

Shit. Tama watched helplessly as Duo's eyes with their irises like violet pools filled with pain and looked down at Wufei's flanks moving weakly with his breathing, trying desperately to cling to life. _It's smarter than I thought._

"Very good, girl," A voice rang out from nowhere. "I see you've learned when to give up."

Tama stiffened. She knew that voice. That arrogant, stomach curdling _voice. _"What do you want, mage?"

There was almost a coy laugh. "Why, to watch the fun, my little wench. I'm simply biding my time until I decide to kill your brother."

"Bastard!!" Before her, the troll began to snarl, confused by the disembodied voice. "Eat shit and die!!"

The voice actually _tsk tsk-ed_ at her! "Now look at what you've done."

"What? What have I done?"

The laugh sounded again, delighted in its own treachery. "Why, you just gave me a reason to kill your little friend."

The voice cackled again, mocking Tama's helplessness as the troll wrenched Duo's arms from their sockets and flung him screaming into the bole of a tree, only to fall limply at its base. With sudden blinding speed the troll rounded on Tama, slapping her axe away and cuffing the side of her head with one enormous palm. Stunned, the young fighter was thrown to the ground, the troll looming hugely over her. Weakly, Tama tried to get to her feet, but found she couldn't move her arms and legs. Something unseen was holding her down. Silently, she cursed Mortis Gour, feeling his magical bonds confining her. 

Grimly, she watched as the troll approached her, it's eight-foot bulk heaving, its piggish eyes gleaming in horrible glee. The club was back in its hand and it looked ready to strike for the first and last time. 

__

I see, Tama thought, suddenly struck with heart-wrenching grief and shame for not having saved her friends.

__

So be it.

The troll raised the club and charged and in one small moment Tama Broman's world became cloaked in sticky red.

*****

_Oh, lord…_

From his perch on the balcony, Zach stared in sick horror at the picture the dreamdrop hovering by Belle's hairline displayed. 

__

No…not the children…no… 

The balconies wreathing the Keep were abuzz with shocked chatter and quiet crying as the news made its rounds. While duels –friendly and otherwise- were almost the norm by Keep standards, the rules strictly stated that _no bystanders could be included for any reason_. Angrily, Zach whirled back to glare at the huge black dome of pure evil magic humming faintly on the field below. 

__

Damn you, he cursed silently, frustrated with his helplessness against such powerful magic.

"What's going on?" Belle asked calmly, though her face was dead white and her mahogany eyes were wide with concern at Zach's behaviour. "What's happening to my boys?" 

Zach simply stared at her. _She has no idea._ Because she was taking care of the dreamdrops, Belle was unable to see the battle below. "Nothing. They're all okay," the elderly wizard managed to choke out. "The stress of the battle is just getting to me, I suppose." _It's for the greater good, Zach_, he reassured himself.

Of course, seeing the relief flooding Belle's face before she closed her eyes to maintain her concentration on the dreamdrops in the field, Zach realised the words didn't reassure him in the least.

*****

Back in the jungle, Trowa and Heero were furiously trying to bring around Quatre, who had collapsed without warning in mid-sentence. Shouting, shaking and even slapping the senseless empath did nothing to wake him and the other two boys were getting desperate.

"Come on, Quatre, wake up!" Trowa said hoarsely, Quatre's numerous warnings of something sinister in the jungle surrounding them ringing in his mind. He shook the blond Arab's alarmingly still form. "Wake _up_!"

"It's not going to work." Heero's voice cut into Trowa's pleas, cold and sharp and clear. "Either we leave him somewhere relatively safe and find the others or we take him with us and find somewhere to stay until he wakes up." Trowa noted that Heero refused to call it "hiding". The Perfect Soldier's Prussian eyes flicked warily around the tiny clearing they were in. "I don't like being this vulnerable."

"Mm." Trowa nodded, already hefting Quatre like an oversized rag doll. "Let's find a place to stay. I don't trust this place." 

By the time they found a suitable place to stay, the noonday sun was beginning its long descending journey to the horizon. It was your basic cave, wide and low ceilinged with its own sable night concealed deeper within, despite the warm daylight that just barely made it through the canopy. On the upside, it was wonderfully cool in contrast to the sweltering heat outside and sheltered, much like any perfectly acceptable cave should be. (Besides, what's a fantasy story without at least one cave which happens to be excellent for hiding in?) Still carrying Quatre, Heero and Trowa moved in.

"It'll do," Heero commented dryly, prodding something which looked like a dried-up animal bone with the toe of his sneaker. "Looks like we're not the first ones to stay here."

"Guess so." Trowa laid Quatre on the smooth cave floor, wishing it wasn't so cold.

Sighing, Heero sat on his heels, leaning against the chilly cave wall. "Any change?"

"Nope." Trowa shook his head and sat next to him. "At least he's breathing okay."

"Yeah. Not bad." Having nothing better to do, Heero pulled a soft cloth from Hammer Space and began to polish his gun with it. "Not bad."

"Uh, Heero?"

"Hn?"  


"Do you…smell something?" 

The Perfect Soldier raised his head and sampled the air. The scent of rotten eggs assailed his nose. "Yeah. I do."

"Like the gas stove at home sometimes?"

"Mm. Probably a hot spring further into the cave or something." He waved a vague hand in the direction of the depths of the cave and went back to polishing his gun.

"Then why do I hear breathing?"

*****

"Get up."

Tentatively, Tama opened her eyes. A man, tall and gaunt against the dim jungle light, stood before her, cloaked in thick scarlet blood, almost violent in its hue. The troll lay scattered in pieces all over the clearing. Feeling as though she would retch from the stench of the ugly thing's blood, Tama stared stupidly at her saviour, trying to comprehend what happened. A glance at her hands showed she was also covered liberally in gooey crimson blood. 

The man was in no mood to wait for her to puzzle the situation out. He prodded her hard with a sticky red boot toe. "I said get up, bitch."

Swaying slightly –and wondering whether or not this man was going to be any better a captor than the troll- Tama got to her feet. "Wha…."

"A troll was attacking you. I killed it." The man jerked his head in the direction of the spots where Duo and Wufei lay, the braided boy having been moved somehow to lie next to Wufei. A familiar woman's shape was tending them. 

"The brats are in bad shape," the man went on. "I say leave them, but she won't." He jerked his thumb at the shape, now kneeling by Wufei and stroking his face. The woman leaned back and shook her hair out, allowing her face to come into the dim light. Tama's heart leapt as she saw the face.

"Ria!" Tama lurched to her sister's side, sobbing with relief. "Ria, I tried to help. I-"

"I know you tried, honey. I know. Oh, lord, you have no idea how glad I am to see you're okay." The Healer paused to lean over a drop a thank-goodness-you're-alive-kiss on the one flesh-coloured spot on the warrior's cheek and handed her a handkerchief to scrub her face with. "Tama, we're in a really bad situation here. The clearing is too open, but there's no way we can move the boys." Under her hand, Wufei's face twisted in agony. Carefully, Ria stroked his lips and cheeks, sending him under again. "My magic's far too limited to heal them here. I can only keep them quiet and reasonably stable."

"What's wrong with them?" Still scrubbing the blood from her face, Tama kicked herself. _Great question, Captain Obvious._

Ria's youthful face hardened as she grimly went down the list. "Wufei's spine was snapped about two-thirds of the way down his back and the muscles in his stomach, chest, thighs and sides are all torn from his being bent over like that. If there's any internal damage, then I haven't found it yet. The bones connecting Duo's arms to his shoulders were pulled right out of their sockets, all the muscles in his chest, shoulders and arms are shredded and he has a major concussion." She wiped the back of her neck. "And this freaking heat isn't helping at all, either." The Healer looked urgently at her sister. "We need to get them home, Tama. They need proper care."

"I know. Who's Mr. Sunshine over there?"

"Don't know much about him. He came over the Bond recently and I haven't had a chance to learn anything about him before today." Ria picked up a large leaf by her knee and nervously began to shred it. "He says his name is Roth." _Shred, shred._ "I don't trust him."

Abruptly, Tama realised that Roth carried no weaponry of any kind. "How… how could he…? How did he…? That's not…. But, even my axe couldn't…." She finished with a bout of frantic pointing at the various troll bits littering the ground finishing with a point to her axe, the blade of which was chipped from turning on the stony skin. 

"I don't know."

"Hey. Bitches." 

"Quite the ladies' man, isn't he?" Tama grumbled wryly. "What do you want?" she called to the gaunt man, who had not even bothered to wipe any of the stinking blood from his face.

Roth was looking up at the sky, watching with apparent boredom as columns of darkness slashed up the afternoon sky. "Looks like the magic men have met up."

Tama looked up just in time to see a shaft of fire shoot high into the sky, leaving a violet shadow in its wake. She bit her lip.

__

Oh, Walker…

*****

"Nnnh…" 

"Heero, he's coming to." 

Heero stood, ignoring the complaints of various muscles which had cooled into what they thought were more pleasant positions, thank you very much, and made his way to where Trowa was helping Quatre stand up. "You okay?"

"Whuck…?" His voice still thick with still only being half-awake, the blond Arab swallowed hard and tried again. "What's going on?"

"You fainted." To the point as always, Heero hooked his hands under Quatre's armpits and hefted him to his feet. "So we brought you here."

"Ah." Gingerly, Quatre put a hand to his head and leaned heavily on the cave wall. "I just remember being fine and then feeling like someone took a sledgehammer to my chest and then I woke up here." He glanced around. "Where are we, anyway? And what's that nasty smell?"

"Doesn't matter where we are. We're still lost. We have to get going, though." Trowa glanced over his shoulder into the depths of the cave. "There's a bear or something living in here."

Quatre shut his eyes. Then they popped open. And remained popped. "Uhhhh, guys?"

"Hn?"

"That's not a bear." A long, slow rasp, like the rubbing of massive scales upon massive scales emerged from the depths of the cave, followed by a low, sleepy groan.

Quatre shut his eyes again, his face set in the expression of a schoolboy trying to remember the previous day's lessons. "Gil was teaching me a bit about this. By the sound of it, it could still be groggy." He moved towards the opening of the cave. "We have to get out of here before it wakes the rest of the way up."

The other two followed him. "Before _what_ wakes up?" Trowa queried, stepping over the bone Heero had kicked at earlier.

"Dragon." The blond boy shook his head. "I wish I'd paid more attention. I don't know a lot, but I do know that they're normally sleepy."

A screaming, spine-shattering roar made the boys as one man fall to their knees. Slow, rhythmic thudding approached them. Footsteps of a cranky dragon.

"Sleepy, huh?" Heero vaulted to his feet and tripled his pace. 

"I said _normally_ sleepy!_ Normally_!" Quatre cried, sprinting after him. 

"Shut up and run!" Trowa called and began to run as well. The vibrations of the dragon's monstrous footfalls shook the floor beneath them and the overpowering stench of sulphur bubbled from the depths of the cave. 

As he ran, Quatre frantically ran over the mental list of facts Gil had told him lately about dragons._ "Most dragons are over twenty feet long." "They hatch from eggs." "Scale size ranges between dinner plate size and pebble size." Dammit! Didn't Gil teach me anything _useful_!?!? Okay, think harder. "Most dragons prefer to snatch grazing livestock to human prey, but will still attack if hungry or threatened." Oh, lovely._

The cave now being far off in the distance, the ex-pilots slowed their pace a bit to catch their breath. 

__

"When hunting, most dragons prefer to use the stealthy approach, swooping in on unsuspecting pre- oh shit. 

"DROP!!" Quatre screamed, throwing himself to the ground and scaring the wits out of the other boys, who nevertheless did the same. At that same instant, the dragon dove and struck out, its razor talons just barely ruffling Quatre's hair.

Screaming in rage, the dragon wheeled in mid-flight over the canopy, giving the boys their first real glimpse of its graceful body and gleaming ivory scales radiating terrible beauty before striking again.

This time Quatre could feel dagger-like claws scratching minuscule furrows into the skin of his back.

"Run for cover!" Trowa shouted, bolting for the denser tree cover of the jungle. 

The boys ran as best they could, skirting open areas, ducking tree limbs and tripping over logs and vines, but even as the sound of the dragon grew faint and disappeared, a nagging feeling kept nibbling at the back of Quatre's mind.

__

Don't dragons breathe fi-

****

WHOOOOOOOMPHHH!!!

Suddenly, the tree cover didn't seem to cover very much anymore.

Thanking his lucky stars that the area around them was damp, Quatre grabbed the sleeve of the boy closest to him –Heero, he realised later- and dove for cover under an ancient fallen tree propped up against its own stump. Screaming, the dragon dove again, its claws scattering glowing shards of timber around them. Then, it was gone, wheeling up into the sky to try again.

Timidly, Quatre poked his head out from under the fallen tree. "Trowa?"

No answer greeted him.

"Trowa?"

Still nothing.

Petrified, Quatre scrambled from under the tree, burning his hands on the already-cooling embers on the damp ground. "Trowa!" he called. "_Trowa!_"

Coldly, Heero clapped a hand over Quatre's mouth. "Shut up. Don't give away our location."

The blond Arab nodded and silently continued searching. After a few heart-stopping seconds, a movement caught the corner of Quatre's eye. Picking his way along the small fires was Trowa.

"Trowa!" Quatre hissed.

The Silencer did not even look up.

Heero, his eyes darting about for signs of another dragon dive, walked briskly to the taller boy and grabbed his shoulder. Grunting in surprise, Trowa leapt away, his gun cocked, as soon as Heero's hand touched him. As soon as Trowa saw him, however, his emerald eyes grew wide with shock.

"Trowa, thank goodness you're okay," Quatre sighed, his ears straining for the sound of wind rushing over leathery wings. He grabbed Trowa in a tight hug, but almost immediately stepped back. The other boy's body was as stiff as wood. Quatre looked at him. The Silencer, his face dead white and his hands shaking wildly, had a look in his eyes that totally belied the calm expression on his face. Slowly, he shook his head.

"Trowa?"

Again a head shake.

Heero stepped behind Trowa and clapped his hands loudly next to his ear.

Trowa didn't notice.

Wide-eyed, Quatre took a step back. "No…" he managed before reaching out with his mind to brush against Trowa's. Almost instantly, a sharp, stabbing pain invaded his head and the world was draped in suffocating silence. Tears began to drip down his cheeks as he noticed the thin trails of blood wending their way down the sides of Trowa's head, almost invisible in the long shadows of the murky jungle light. "Trowa, no!" Sobbing, Quatre threw himself at Trowa, who stepped back in surprise. 

"Trowa! No, Trowa! N-" It was about here that Heero's fist connected with Quatre's jaw. The blond empath hit the ground hard and rolled, coming unsteadily to his knees. Heero stood over him, his Prussian eyes like shards of blue ice. 

"Stop it."

"But, Heero, Trowa's-"

"I know. He can't hear. He must have been too close to the dragon when it roared last." The Perfect Soldier leaned over and hauled Quatre to his feet. "We need to get Trowa out of here. He won't be able to hear if the dragon strikes again." 

The Arab boy scrubbed a fist over his eyes. "Yeah. Sorry. You're right." He tilted his head back, gazing sadly at the sky, now visible through the charred treetops bare of leaves. "Let's go." Turning, Quatre took Trowa's wrist and began to lead him, keeping an ear open for anything. A moment later, his diligence was "rewarded" by an already all-too familiar screaming keen. Quatre's vision darkened for a split second as the dragon's shadow passed overhead and wheeled back. As one, the boys looked up.

Above them, the dragon wheeled back a second time and started into another dive. About halfway in, however, it faded from view. The three didn't even bother to question what happened and simply broke into a dead sprint, whatever ears that could straining for the sound of a diving dragon.

"Quatre," Heero said, still running. Amazingly, he didn't seem out of breath. "Get Trowa out of here. I'll lead the dragon off and meet you later."

"Are you _insane_!?" Behind Quatre, the dragon's keen split the sky.

"Yes." Plunging his hand into Hammer Space, Heero pulled his gun and cocked it. "Now go!"

Still running, Quatre said nothing for a moment before finally darting off into the bush with Trowa in tow, a silent prayer hovering unsaid on his lips.

__

Good luck, my friend.

*****

__

Bwaaaa! I'm evil, aren't I? 

See you later and don't forget to review!

Ja ne, minna-san!

LPD *//.^* 


	25. The Shira'an

__

Yo. Not much to say today. Enjoy. –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

*****

His chest heaving in exhaustion, Walker flung himself to the damp jungle ground, a column of fire shredding the air above him. An answering column of flame burst from his fingers before he even hit the ground, forcing Mortis Gour to dive for cover. A wide radius of jungle around the two antagonists had been burned to the ground, filling the air with thick, choking ash. The continuous volleys of fire, ice, lightning and pure magic had taken their toll, for both mages had been injured, though only Mortis Gour's wounds showed. Walker's simply healed over themselves as soon as they appeared due to the wonders of genetic engineering. But the process was beginning to tire Walker out, and with his limited source of energy, this was simply not an option. 

__

Damn him! Walker's lungs screamed for air as the fire's heat sucked them dry. Exhausted, the Lord of Alaryan's Keep fired a dizzying volley of conjured daggers at his foe, only to see them be knocked casually aside. _DAMN HIM!_

"Just give up, mageling!" Gour shouted. Walker cursed under his breath. Even with his wounds, the bastard wasn't even breathing hard. He was leaning on his staff, burned and bloodied, but grinning nevertheless, watching with glee as Walker laboured to his feet. "You certainly are a stubborn one, aren't you, boy? You_ must_ realise by now that I'm stronger than you, don't you? Your unwillingness to submit really is quite pitiful, though I must admit it's also quite entertaining to watch."

"Eat shit and die!" Walker spat back, willing another column of fire into existence. Still laughing, Gour batted it away.

"Why are you doing this?!" Walker screamed.

Gour actually laughed harder. "Notoriety, old boy. Isn't that why anyone does anything?"

__

Great. I'm fighting an amplified glory-seeker. "Kiss my a-AAAGH!" Narrowly, Walker evaded a bolt of lightning. There came a small hissing sound as the stones around the very spot he was standing on melted into fluid. 

__

It's not a fair fight, really. Walker reflected. _The man has a staff. How the hell am I supposed to contend with that?_

__

You could get off your lily ass and use yours_, knucklehead,_ a tiny, sarcastic voice chirped in Walker's head.

__

Riiight. Use that_ monstrosity? Suuure. _Although he hated to admit it, Walker feared using his staff, the Shira'an, an ancient relic passed down from mage to mage. Something about it just screamed pure evil to him. Just touching the forsaken thing was enough to send a sick feeling through his entire body. But what more was there for him to do?

__

So be it. 

Gour had stopped hurling magic, obviously bored with the lack of retaliation and eager to catch his breath a moment. Holding his breath, Walker plunged his hands into his subspace pocket and drew out the Shira'an, forcing himself to ignore to wave of nausea that rolled over him as he pulled it out. The warm daylight, now unhindered by tree cover, reflected off the dull metal curves of the shaft as it was drawn from the subspace pocket. The cold azure glow of sullenly contained magic enveloped it, wrapping itself thickest around a deep blue orb resting on top. Walker hunkered down, readying himself for the first attack.

"Well, now." Mortis Gour also pulled himself back into a fighting stance. A serpentine smile wreathed his face. "A _metal_ staff. How unique." 

Walker grinned back, his own smile grim and humourless. "Now it gets interesting."

*****

"Heero!" Quatre stuck his head from the rocky nook he and Trowa were using to hide in. The screaming, snarling roars had ceased for the moment, but there was no sign of the Perfect Soldier. Beckoning to Trowa, Quatre left their hidey-hole to look for him. 

"Heero!"

A smudge of violent pink caught the corner or Quatre's eye. His heart dropped to his feet as his brain registered exactly what it was. Heero lay there on the ground, motionless, save for the barely perceptible up and down movement of shallow breathing. The scent of burned flesh hung over him like a shroud and his shirt had been completely burned from his body, exposing a layer of seriously blistered skin. His jeans were also gone, leaving only the familiar black bike shorts, which Quatre had no idea he wore under his outer clothes, the synthetic material melted to his thighs like a second skin. Buried under the prevalent noises in the jungle, the small sizzle of still-burning flesh made its way to Quatre's ear. He fought the urge to scream, feeling now the sudden agony his friend was enduring as his mind melded with Heero's. Next to him, Trowa made odd whimpering noises from the back of his throat and was probably not even aware of them. Swiftly, Quatre's eyes darted around, looking for something, some condensation pooled within the head of a large flower, a small puddle collected in the cup of a leaf, anything to throw on the Perfect Soldier to quell the burning.

__

Please, Lord. Don't let us die here.

****

Quatre! 

"Wha!?"

****

Oh, thank heavens I finally got through! It was Talon's voice, faint and somewhat cloudy-sounding, but it was Talon all the same. Quatre clung to the voice like drowning man to a piece of driftwood as his saviour.

****

What do I do!? the blond Arab cried out, not caring about the stinging desperation that seeped from his mind to that of the old man's. His eyes still frantically scanned the skies for the dark shape of a diving dragon. 

****

Listen hard, boy. We can mend this problem together.

Quatre nodded vigorously, then remembered himself.** Right. Tell me what to do.**

Suddenly, Trowa grabbed Quatre's sleeve and gestured wildly at the sky. The dragon was landing again, most likely to worry and devour her newly-downed prey. Quatre started like a frightened deer and made to start running, Trowa in tow.

****

No, child!

Quatre froze, almost causing Trowa to run headlong into him.

****

Let it land. We can do nothing unless we let it land. Remember, I'll be here to help you through this. I'll be here the whole time.

The way he spoke reminded Quatre of a wizened old hostage negotiator. **Okay.**

The elderly voice was calm and firm as Talon gave Quatre his instructions. **Do exactly as I say. Don't question. Just do it. Now, focus in on the dragon. See it. See _into_ it. See every vein, every tissue, every molecule. **The old man's voice lilted in Quatre's head. He could feel it trickling into every fold of his brain like tepid fountain water, warm and calming.** Don't just look. _See._**

Dreamily, Quatre focused his mind. The gleaming ivory beast appeared in his mind's eye, approaching Heero's still form, unaware of the attention it was being given. He looked further. Muscles, bone and organs came into view, the throbbing of blood within them nearly deafening as Quatre delved deeper to see individual blood vessels and muscle fibres. Further still, he saw individual molecules. Dazzled by the sprightly dance of electrons, Quatre almost missed Talon's next instruction. 

****

Focus higher, child. Look for the strongest of the muscle fibres. Look for the heart.

Different muscles shot through Quatre's mind. Muscles to support the legs, muscles used for swallowing, muscles to give birth. Finally, the muscle fibres of the heart came into view, thick and stringy and strong with constant use. The rush of blood within this organ was louder than in all the others as it went methodically through the motions of systole and diastole. 

**__**

Pump…rushhhhh

Suddenly, Quatre realised his task.

_Pump…rushhhhh_

**Focus in.**

_Pump…rushhhhh_

**Focus harder.**

_Pump…rushhhhh_

**Take hold.**

_Pump…rushhhhh_

**Don't let go, now.**

_Pump…rushhhhh_

**Squeeze hard. Don't let it shake you off.**

__

Pump…rushhhhh

**Harder.**

__

Pump……rushhhhh

****

Harder!

_Pump…………rushhhhh_

****

I said _harder, _boy!

_Pump…_

****

Depart in peace.

_Silence._

****

*****

"Lay him down here," Iondra instructed. Carefully, Gaelin and Declan carried the unconscious Talon to a spare room and laid him on the bed.

"Will he be okay?" Gaelin asked quietly, pulling the blanket up to the old man's chin and tucking it under. A soft, weary groan escaped Talon's lips as his body sank into the mounded contours of the straw-tick mattress beneath him, but he did not wake. 

Iondra nodded slowly. "He should be alright after a while. What he did with Quatre back there took a lot out of him."

Declan sighed grimly and sat on the edge of the bed. "And Quatre?"

The ageless woman's face grew sorrowful. She and Nat thought of Gil and Belle as her own siblings and to them, the Ichara's children were like her own nieces and nephews. She thought fleetingly of how the girls were taking this gristly scene going on outside and closed her eyes a moment. "We can only hope," she said after a long while, "that Trowa stays with him. There is no way the poor boy could possibly have remained conscious after that."

The three were silent again for a while, plucking uselessly at blankets and staring into space. Finally, Declan spoke up: "Are we all going to die if Walker… y'know… _loses_?"

"Declan!" Gaelin shouted, causing the old wizard to moan in his bone-weary sleep. "_Please_!"

"I don't know." Iondra admitted. "I really don't. All we can do is hope we don't ever have cause to find out."

Nervously, Gaelin pulled a lyre from his subspace pocket and began to coax a simple melody from it. "Hope. Sure."

Declan glanced out the window at the scene begin projected below. "Yeah." He sighed. "It's been nice knowing you guys."

*****

"Now it finally begins!" Mortis Gour's face was split with a wide grin. "Let the Fates reveal the true victor." His smile swiftly grew cold. "Give my best to the angels, won't you?"

"Bring it on, shitbag." Walker snarled back. 

Mortis Gour sniffed regally at Walker. "Gauche," he decided. "Effective, but gauche."

Growling low in his throat, Walker advanced. Laughing, Gour approached him as well. Suddenly, the older mage struck the ground with the butt of his staff, shattering a wide fissure into the ground. 

Wary and slightly intrigued, Walker stopped his advance. "What the hell…?"

"What? Did you _really_ expect me to do this myself?"

__

Ah, shit. 

A deep, earth-shattering roar filled the air as a twelve-foot stone demon shouldered its way to the surface. It resembled a cross between a troll and a dragon, all stony scales and dense muscle. Deep furrows ran from either corner if its wide maw, channelled by millennia of corrosive poison dribbling from its two-foot pair of needle-pointed fangs. 

Walker sighed and levelled the Shira'an at the netherworld monster, shattering it without a word.

Snarling, Gour brushed a shard of demon flesh from his shoulder. "Tacky. Very tacky."

"Not as tacky as bringing innocents into a duel," Walker shot back. 

Gour grinned like a snake. "They served their purpose."

"Which would be?"

"Entertainment." The older mage laughed. Suddenly, the air around Walker was filled with cloudy images of Wufei and Duo, their bodies twisted and motionless, flanked by his two oldest sisters, covered in blood. Images of Heero, his body charred and burned, his clothing gone and his hair neatly burned away. Of Quatre, lying face up on the jungle floor, staring blankly up at the sky with unseeing eyes, and of Trowa, kneeling helplessly beside him, thin trickles of blood trailing from both ears. 

"No.…" Walker's eyes widened in shock. Far within their depths, a tiny fleck of bloody red began to emerge. The soul of the Shira'an was stirring within him. "No…."

"Hurry up, boy," Gour called impatiently. "Do you plan on fighting or shall I just make it easy on you and kill you right here?"

"How dare you…." The scarlet fleck was quickly joined by another floating towards it like two autumn leaves floating towards each other in a pond of pure gold. Another fleck quickly joined them, followed by another. The process took less than a nanosecond and within an instant, both of Walker's pupils were ringed with alternating streaks of deep, bloody red and glinting gold. Around his feet, small stones began to vibrate. 

Gour pulled himself yet again into a fighting stance, pulling his free hand back for a new attack. His face was aglow with vicious glee. "About bloody time!" he crowed, thrusting a newly formed spear of ice at the younger mage's chest.

It screamed through the air, only to stop dead six feet away from Walker and fizzle lamely into a puddle at his feet. Larger stones on the jungle floor began to move and hairline cracks appeared in the ground around Walker's feet. The air suddenly tasted like rusting tin as surplus magic began to leech itself into the air.

Gour took a hesitant step back, suddenly unsure of what to expect. His staff was fully extended and his feet were firmly planted, but his shoulders were slumpedand his eyes were filled with very little confidence at the sight before him. Walker's irises were now enveloped in deep bloody scarlet and tiny rivulets of blood tinged black from plague ran from the corners of his mouth. A horrid grin graced his scarred features as an unseen wind tousled his hair, evidence of currents of unbridles magic racing over and around his body. A horrible laugh echoed not from the younger mage's throat, but rather from deep within his body, bubbling up and filling the jungle around him in a voice too deep to have come from a mere man. The cracks spiderwebbing from his feet split wider and longer with every booming cackle. Slowly, Walker's tail and wings bulged against his clothes and tore free, forcing him to bend over slightly to accommodate the added weight. The spirit and soul of Walker Broman was now gone, shunted aside to make way for the soul of the ancient heirloom shackle known as the Shira'an.

*****

"What is he doing!?" Relena screamed at Nat. They were on a tiny balcony stemming from a spare room with Kari, the balcony on his own office having already being snatched away by a group of Bhaarliads not more than mere seconds before he got there. At the moment, the former Queen of the World was gripping the lapels of the elderly man's robe and was shaking him as though the answer to her question was stuck inside him. Above their heads a tiny dreamdrop hovered, showing the soon-to-be gristly scene before them. 

"Girl, get a hold of yourself!" Nat roared, wrenching the hysterical girl off. 

"What's happening to Walker!? Why hasn't he killed that man for what he did!?" Relena began to sob. "Why is that man still alive after what he did to Heero!?" She threw herself at the old man again, this time pummelling him with her fists and almost knocking him from their balcony perch. "_Why is he still alive!?_"

All of a sudden, Relena found herself sprawled on the tiny floor of the balcony, her cheek flushed deep, stinging red. Kari lowered her hand.

**Forgive me,** was all she said before curtly backing off.

Nat groaned and helped Relena to her feet. "I can handle this myself, Kari."

The blonde fighter shrugged indifferently. You do it your way and I'll do it mine."

The elderly wizard turned Relena's face into the light to take a better look. "At least it's not going to bruise. As for Walker, that…thing you are now looking at is no longer him." 

"What?" Relena breathed, laying a hand to her stinging cheek. _You deserved it, you know,_ she reminded herself. 

"Walker staff, the Shira'an we call it, is controlling his body now."

"It's sentient?" Relena's sapphire eyes were huge as she turned back to look at Walker's body, which now oozed blood from both mouth and nose with morbid abandon.

Nat nodded. "That it is. It was owned by the mage before him and before _him_ and so on. It was what led the last mage to his death." He shook his head. "What a waste. I was about your age when it happened. Poor Sepphyricus. The Shira'an's constant picking at his mind drove him insane and ended up stabbing himself in the chest with it.

Warily, Relena let her eyes travel down to the butt of the Shira'an. A wickedly serrated point greeted her view, half buried in the jungle turf. "So the staff is taking over Walker's body?" 

Gravely, Nat nodded. "But at least there's an upside to this."

__

How can he be so calm? "What?" Behind Relena, Kari leaned in to hear better over the roar of the crowd below. 

"The Shira'an is insanely powerful and almost as petty. Given the chance, it will instinctively try to destroy anything of power nearby out of spite." The old man's face was alight with morbid fascination. "And Mortis Gour is the only powerful thing around it in a huge radius."

*****

****

Thou darest_ invade my domain?_ Blood frothed from the Shira'an's host's mouth and nose. Deep within the creature's eyes, hatred burned, blazing red and terrible. 

Impressively, Mortis Gour managed to stay calm. "I do," he said.

**_And for that, thy punishment will be brutal._**

The older mage cackled wildly. "Who's to say I cannot simply banish you back to whatever plane of hell you came from and take the Keep for my own pleasure?" 

The staff, the Shira'an's prison, flared dangerously. **_I care not for the Keep. The concerns of mere mortals are not my own. _**It stopped a moment, seeming to contemplate something.**_ However, one simple fact still remains._**

"Which is?"

**__**

One who is dead cannot banish. 

Suddenly, the ground under its feet melted away to reveal a lake of pure, shimmering magic the colour of quicksilver. From within its depths, the snarls and screams of lesser demons shivered and ripped at the air. With blinding speed, a huge, clawed hand tore free from the quicksilver bonds and plucked the older mage from the ground, grabbing him around the head and dragging him, kicking and screaming into the abyss below. 

The Shira'an howled in triumph as the man's shrill screams rent the air and then fell suddenly silent. It smiled, bloody teeth gleaming slickly in the dim light of the jungle dome. Within the monster, a man's voice cried out, frantic with fear as he felt his soul being torn from his own body.

*****

"What the hell is going on?!"

Iondra closed her eyes and let her gnarled hands on the railing support her weight. The sorceress' ageless face seemed to have aged somehow. "The Shira'an is taking over Walker's body," she said to the wide-eyed bards at her side. "He let it have too much power." A tear slipped past her lashes to land silently on her breast. "We have nothing left to do but wait until it tears us all limb from limb."

Declan looked like he was going to scream. "You mean we're just going to stand here and watch as that monster kills off everyone in the Keep?!"

"And perhaps even beyond that?" Gaelin added.

Iondra now began to cry in earnest. "Forgive me, children. We have no other choice."

*****

Is the world truly doomed? Well, not like I'm going to tell you!!! Stay tuned! (That slap was for all you Relena-haters out there, by the way. ;p)

Ja ne, minna-san!

--LPD *//.^*


	26. Shades

__

Yo. Not much to say here. Read and review. –Lady PhoenixDagger **//.**^*

*****

Far within the depths of what was left of his mind, Walker Broman floated, cold, naked and alone.

_So this is what it's like to die from the inside out,_ he mused sadly. _I suppose I deserve it, then._ The memories of what had happened in the last few hours marched past him like the final few bloodied soldiers staggering back from their last stand. 

_I've failed them._

_Bullshit!_ a woman's voice, feminine and full, cut like a razor into Walker's psyche. _I've fallen into worse situations and I always managed to get out of them_.

_Name one thing worse than this._

Another woman's voice joined in, this one sounding much younger. _Don't be such a coward! _

But I've failed. As we speak, a thing more powerful even than me is going to peel me like dead skin from my own body and I'll be nothing more than a lost shade. The young mage turned away from the voices. _I've made up my mind._ _Don't waste your time on me. _

What's time to a shade but something to be wasted? A man's voice caught Walker's hearing this time, confident in its richness._ We have failed. Our current forms attest to that._ You, _however, still exist. _You_ have a chance._

_Leave me alone._

Your family's still out there, you know. The girl's voice wrapped hauntingly around Walker's spirit. _They'll all die if you don't do something. The Shira'an will kill them first. And Darien will die as soon as his energy runs out. _

But I can do nothing! A vision of Darien still comatose in his apartments danced tantalisingly in front of his before quick-stepping away.

The woman's voice laughed gently at him. _Who said it was only going to be _you_ out there? _A smile quirked in Walker's mind as nimble woman's fingers fondly patted the side of his face. _We live in here too, you know._

Lovely. Am I nothing but a spiritual landlord to you people? But there was a small smile in Walker's voice.

__

Depends on the utilities, the man laughed softly. _It seems to be a bit chilly in here, don't you agree?_

Carefully, the spirits in Walker's head wrapped his naked spirit body with their own, their non-corporeal breath warming him. Slowly, in the agonising lack of time in Walker's head, he untangled himself and stood in the featureless void of his own mind. Walker grinned at the three of his "tenants".

_Let's do it._

*****

"Look!!" Relena screamed. 

"What is it, child?" Nat asked wearily from where he sat in the corner of the balcony, his eyes red-rimmed. Kari sat at his side, her strong, slender arms wrapped around his shoulders for comfort. "Has it devised a way to leave the dome?"

"There's something else coming from the silver lake." 

"Oh, lord."

Impatiently, Relena grabbed the old man and hoisted him up. "No, no! These are different! Look."

Nat sighed and let himself be placed before the dreamdrop to take a look. Upon seeing what rose from the lake, the elderly wizard let out a startled cry.

****

What?! What is it? Kari demanded, unable to see the bounty of the dreamdrop. **Tell me!**

"It's a man and two women," Nat said in wonder. "Shades coming up from the depths."

The silhouettes of two women and a man, slender and beautiful rose up from the depths of the quicksilver lake, exuding an air of familiarity, as though everyone at the Keep knew them, but simply could not recall from where. Beseechingly, they stroked at the Shira'an's host body, their beautiful hands pulling free long black strands of its soul from the lean, hard lines of human muscle and delicate folds of wing tissue as the Shira'an screamed in agony. The dome above cracked and shattered above them, showering both host and shade alike with shards of pure evil magic and the ground below was rent and torn with the Shira'an's pain. But the shades kept on, pulling and tearing at the monster's soul until the staff spirit was completely torn away, damned to die in a non-existent plane. Then the Shira'an's prison, the vile shackle of thousands of years of mages, grew tarnished and disintegrated into nothing, leaving Walker Broman, the victorious Lord of Alaryan's Keep, to fall limply to the earth, his eyes blank as his previous healing sleep rolled over him once more.

*****

__

Whee! That was quick, ne? The next chapter will be longer. I swear.

Ja ne, minna-san!

LPD *//.^*


	27. Cathy's Diary

__

Hello! Yep, I'm still alive! I'm sorry about the horrible wait, but exam season sprang upon me with the force of four seriously heavy classes. And then I think my computer decided that the Internet is the devil and wants nothing to do with it, so that made the wait even longer!!!! Anyway, to make up for the really short chapter I last posted (thanks for not sending me any serious death threats about that, by the way) and also to kinda eat up some months, I give you a much longer diary chapter. Enjoy!

Me no own Gundam. Me *want* Gundam, but me no own. But all other stuff me yes own. No touchy. 

Note: I mentioned that December 12th is Quatre and Wufei's birthday. I got this info from a site entitled "I Love Bishonen" or something to that effect. So, here is the list of birthdays in its entirety. If anyone knows if this list is true or not, please contact me at phoenixdagger@hotmail.com . Thanks! --Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

Heero Yuy-- May 2 

Duo Maxwell-- June 11 

Trowa Barton-- January 2 

Quatre R.Winner-- December 12 

Wufei Chang-- December 12 

Relena Peacecraft-- April 8 

No, It's not a typo, Quatre and Wufei's birthdays are the same day. -_-* 

*****

****

Cathy's Diary

November 7th: 

It's been a week since that Mortis Gour bastard came to the Keep and needless to say, it's been a week since he's left it. The media has been hounding the Keep officials since about an hour after Gour was killed and the Shira'an banished and it's driving everyone nuts. The reporters even keep hounding us and the Broman family at our homes. One of them even tried to lure Shinigami-kun into her news truck for an "exclusive scoop"! 

I wonder if she's healed yet? Those little scythe cuts tend to go in pretty damn deep. 

Even as I speak, Gil and Belle are at the Keep with the other officials giving a press conference. They're also going to mention that since the lands around here property of the Keep and we technically have our own set of laws, the Keep has decided that martial law is to be declared against any unescorted news people. Those who are found will be sentenced to an unspecified sentence in the Keep dungeons. Period. I've actually seen the dungeons before, and the word "dungeons" is a gross overstatement. It's just a scary way of saying "plainly furnished guest apartments with no doorknobs on the insides". Still, the media doesn't know this, and all the Keep officials really have to do is throw the word "dungeons" around, sit back and watch the press suddenly be on its best behaviour. 

The boys are still in the Keep infirmary still, and Relena, Kari and I can't visit them, which makes me so angry! But those bard twins, Gaelin and Declan, came by to tell us that the boys will be out soon! I can't wait to see them again! Kari and Relena –especially Relena- have been so depressed by last week's…events, that it would be great for them to see the boys again. As of now, all the boys have been healed, but because it was done with magic, there's a string attached (isn't there always?). The boys know they've been healed, but deep down, their bodies have no idea. So, running on down the list:

Duo: His arms and chest muscles should still be torn up. They aren't, but his body has yet to clue in, so he can't move his arms at all yet.

Wufei: His spine was snapped and then fixed up, but he still can't walk yet. Belle is thinking we should borrow a wheelchair from the Keep infirmary for him until his legs "wake up".

Heero: He suffered third-degree burns all over his body, poor guy, but they're all gone now. Yet, he's still not able even to twitch without terrible pain, though you'd never know it unless you looked really hard. (He's going to have to stay at the Keep longer than the others)

Trowa: His eardrums were ruptured when the dragon basically roared in his face. They're better now, but it'll take time for him to be able to hear again.

Quatre: Quatre's coming home tomorrow!! Out of the five, he was the only one to come out marginally okay, since it was his mind and not his body that got hurt. He woke up yesterday and though he'll still be weak, he's still coming home before the others. 

Walker: He's back in the isotubes and according to Dulcet, the fight took a helluva lot out of him, so he might not wake up until after Christmas. I hope he does. Nothing would suck more for the Bromans if he missed it completely.

Anyway, I have to start getting ready for work, so I've got to go. I'm starting to hate my job. My boss keeps leering at me all the time. Too bad there's nowhere in my uniform to hide my knives. 

November 8th: Quatre's home!! In other words, Belle's mothering instinct has kicked into hyperdrive. I tell you, if she feeds that boy any more, he'll explode all over the kitchen table. I wonder who would have to clean that up?

November 15th: Everyone's home! Heero's healing up faster than the Keep doctors initially expected, so he came early. He and Wufei are bedridden, which is driving Wufei absolutely insane. Trowa is wandering around the house, barely saying anything, so it's a lot like he never got hurt. He's been spending a lot of time with Kari, too. The mute dating the deaf. Who knew? She "talks" to him and he thinks his replies at her. Duo is still his zippy, bouncy self, which is delighting Shinigami-kun, who's had no one to play with for the last two weeks. The only difference with Duo is that his arms are in slings strapped across his chest, making them totally useless. Duo, of course, is absolutely loving this. For the last hour and a half, he's been asking people to do menial tasks for him, like "Relena, would you braid my hair for me?" and "Cathy, will you take my socks off for me?". To top it all off, he does it all in this annoying baby voice that makes me want to squish his head. He's stopped bugging Kari, however. Whenever he even starts to ask her for something in that stupid voice, she just fixes him with one of those Looks she's so famous for and his voice dries up before he even gets to the second syllable. 

Gotta go now. Duo's yelling for a drudge to brush his teeth for him.

November 20th: Declan and Gaelin came over to check up on the boys today. You know, I think that Declan guy is hitting on me. Anyway, they passed along an invitation from Darien to go out on the town with them tomorrow night. I'm excited, but kind of nervous, I mean, I'll be the youngest one there by four years. I'll tell you how it all goes tomorrow.

November 22nd: I know I said I'd write about yesterday, well, yesterday, but I got home _really_ late, so I put it off until today. Deal with it. We went to this amazing bar and grill downtown for dinner and drinks (I love Canada! I'm legal here!!) Then we hit the local karaoke bar. Needless to say, with two bards, I knew I was waaay out of my league. Did you know it's possible for two men to sing all five parts of "YMCA"? We danced a bit after the DJ got there around eleven. Me with Declan, me with Darien, Declan with some other girl he knew, me alone. Did you know Darien is actually shy around girls???? But the best times were with Gaelin. As soon as I got into those arms…well…damn!!! Out of Declan and Gaelin, Gaelin is the absolute cutest. Yes, I'm quite aware that they're identical, thank you very much, but Gaelin is kind and funny and smart and sweet (not to mention drop-dead gorgeous!!!) Declan's a great guy, don't get me wrong, but he's more of a buddy-type. He's fun and cool and a great joker, but he's just not the same as his brother. 

I wonder if they'll come over today?

November 24th: Gaelin came over today! We're going out on Friday night!!!!

November 26th: Can't wait, can't wait, can't wait!!!!! Gaelin sent me a rose at work today with a note saying he can't wait either!!!!!!! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

November 28th: My boss keep leering at me. I'm going to have to pummel him one of these days.

November 29th: Date tomorrow night. Work tonight. Managed to get some daggers with wrist sheaths from the Keep this morning. Fredrik, the weapons master on duty said that they were out of throwing knives, but I could always go to Glas and Ciaran in the forge and get some custom made for me. 

Hmmm…not a bad idea….

November 30th: 

**__**

HE KISSED ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

December 1st: Okay, so my last entry was a little vague. As you can probably tell, my date was last night. Gaelin and I went out for dinner at this incredible Chinese place (I highly recommend the Cantonese lo mein, by the way) and then out to this tiny club that Gaelin, Declan and Misty play sometimes. It was a jazz band on stage last night, though. We danced like crazy idiots until about midnight. Hot damn, I forgot how well the man can dance! Then, all danced out, we took a walk by the lakeside, hanging off each other and chatting about nothing until about one-thirty when he drove me home. Everyone was asleep, but I invited him in for a cup of coffee anyway, which he accepted. This ended up in us chatting quietly for another hour until about three. Finally, he said that he had to be at the Keep for nine (Being a bard is a paid position in the Keep. Gaelin and Declan are full-time and Misty is part-time because of school) and I walked him to the door. Then, right out of the blue, Gaelin leans over, wraps his arms around me, and…

And the rest is history, I guess.

We're going out to see a movie this Saturday and he's going to be my date for the staff Christmas party next week.

I think I'm in lo-ove!!!!

So far the boys are getting better every day. Heero and Wufei are out of bed (Wufei refused the wheelchair Belle borrowed for him. The stubborn idiot refused to be "wheeled about like an invalid". Go figure) and are shuffling slowly around the house, although stairs are still a challenge. Trowa's hearing has gotten better to the point that he can hear us if we raise our voices and Duo's still numb from shoulder to elbow, but now he can grip things and use his hands to a point. And Quatre –bless him!- has been doing all he can to help out. Shinigami-kun is also trying, but there's only so much a bundle of magical fallout smaller than a teacup can do. He fetches little things like aspirin (we're using a lot of that) and relays messages and plays with anyone who'll let him. Everyone thinks this is just the cutest thing, except for Wufei, who has taken to keeping a flyswatter by his bed. 

December 5th: Christmas shopping today! We're doing secret Santas here at home, and I picked Quatre's name out of the hat, so I have to find a gift under $15 for him. Maybe some sheet music? And I have to get a gift for Gaelin. Something really nice. Maybe something to keep his head warm? When we were out at the movies last night he told me he doesn't have a winter hat and his poor ears looked like someone had glued strawberries to the sides of his head. But he looked so cute with his hair flipping around in the wind and his cheeks-

Oh, man. I sound like a love-struck seventh-grader. 

Ah, well. Whoever cares can kiss my ass.

Now if you don't mind, I have to go lie on the floor and swoon for a while. Excuse me.

December 7th: The employee Christmas party was last night. I took Gaelin as my date like I said –or did not I remember to write that down? Anyway, apparently my boss had no idea how close I am to powerful Keep officials who could easily have him fired in an instant if he tried anything stupid with me. 

Gaelin filled him in.

I had no idea a great big perverted middle-aged man could squeal like that.

It looks like my job is going to be just a little bit easier from now on.

Oh! More terrific news! Walker is finally strong enough to live without the aid of an isotube! He's still very weak, but at least he'll be home for Christmas, which made Misty –she was over here when Zach called and gave her the news- so excited. Of course, mix this with Duo and it was like having two happily insane toddlers on caffeine highs running around the house. I mean, we all love Misty and Duo and they make a great couple, but there's only so much of them we can all take. I remember Christmas when I was with the circus. All the performers already in their costumes exchanging gifts under the little plastic tree in Ringmaster's trailer before for the Christmas Day show, dressing the show horses like reindeer and stuff like that. Trowa was the only one that was able to get the antlers on the lions last year, though. We're doing it differently here, though. You see, Duo, Relena, Trowa and I are Christian as far as I can tell; Heero is Shintoist; Wufei's Buddhist; I have no idea what Kari is; Quatre's something Orthodox and the Gil and Belle are Jewish. According to them, we'll just have a "Festivus" -the name was all Duo's idea, go figure- on December 25, mainly because that's when all the Christmas specials are on. If you go to the window by the front door right now, you can see the lights on our Christmas tree and the candles glowing on our menorah.

December 11th: At last! Duo has regained full use of his arms! We're free! And I managed to keep myself from pummelling him (I did dump a full glass of orange juice on his head, though. Oopsie.) Trowa's almost back to normal, though he told me everything still sounds a little bit muffled. Heero and Wufei are almost themselves as well, tackling the stairs almost as well as before. Quatre's girlfriend Mira has been coming over a lot and Misty's been over a lot as well. Already they, Kari and Relena and I have become a bit of a clique. Anyway, it looks like Mira's going to be spending the Christmas holiday with us since she lives alone and in Belle's view of this, it is Simply Not Right. Basically Belle said "Oh, incidentally, dear, you're staying here over the holidays and the woodstove goes out sometimes in the middle of the night, so you might want to pack a warm sweater or two," and that was that. 

I finally got to meet the newest guys to come from the Bond. The blondish guy, Mackenzie, is a big sweetheart and smart, too. I liked him as soon as I met him. But that Roth!!! First, he spent about five minutes insulting me and Kari (who came with me) and then he turns his attention to Walker, who's still bedridden but sitting up, by the way. He actually said that the Keep should just execute him and get it over with!!!!!! This ended up with Kari slugging him and then Roth belting her back and then it takes me, Mackenzie and seven other Bhaarliads to get them off each other. Apparently she broke his jaw and I saw a lot of scrapes and bruises beginning to fade after we got them apart.

Geez.

Anyway, I've gotta go. Gil's calling me for dinner. I think it's leftovers. Yuck.

December 12th, Quatre and Wufei's birthday: Urgh, I am so full. When Belle makes a cake, she makes it huge. And today she made two. One with "Happy Birthday" written in frosting in Arabic and the other had it written in Mandarin. Belle's good for little details like that. It's funny that both Quatre and Wufei share the same birthday. They're so un-alike! I mean, Quatre is sweet and gentle and kind and pleasant and Wufei…well…isn't.

December 18th: Went to see Walker this afternoon. He's sitting up and on solid foods already. Apparently, he and Darien had a huge pizza-wings-ribs-beer feast the night before to celebrate that. That bugs me. Because of their scary-ass metabolisms, Walker, Darien, Kari and Ryu (Remember him? He's Ria's fighter boyfriend with the red eyes and no sense of humour) are simply incapable of gaining more than a single pound before automatically losing it again. I've seen how much Kari can eat –especially during Thanksgiving dinner- and all I can say is WHERE'S THE JUSTICE!?!?!?

Stupid waistline.

Anyway, Walker's sitting up and feeding himself like I said, but most of all, he's bored out of his tree and it's driving his mom, who's staying home with him, absolutely nuts. And I thought Duo had been bad. When we got there (Gil, Belle, Relena, Kari and the boys went yesterday while I was at work. I went today with Gaelin and Declan.) Walker was somewhere around seventeen bottles of beer, which he was singing at the top of his lungs. Poor Marrigan Broman looked like she was about to pull up a tree with her bare hands and kill him with it. So Gaelin and Declan share this evil twin look and joined in at about fifteen bottles. Have you ever heard the New England boys choir sing a ten-part hamony of ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall? Needless to say, this scared the crap out of Walker. He was cheerful when we saw him, but you can't help but notice the IV in his arm and how haggard he looks, especially around the eyes and he's alarmingly pale. His girlfriend Amy was there as well. Turns out she was also singing along, though not nearly as loudly as Walker was. She was sitting on the bed with him, wrapped up in his arms. They made a game of sneaking kisses when they thought we weren't looking. Gaelin and I ended up playing the same game and "aww"s were exchanged on both sides. Declan looked like he was going to be sick the entire time. What a spoilsport. Maybe I should set him up with Tama Broman or something.

December 21st: The boys, Relena and Kari are off school until January! You know, now that I look at them, Relena and Heero are actually a cute couple. Relena's been sick these past few days and Heero's been really sweet in his own quiet, unobtrusive way. Little things like heating up soup or tea or picking up lozenges from the candy machine at school for her. I think a little bit of the kissy-kissy has been going on as well, for now Heero is the one who's sneezing and Relena's bringing him soup, tea, and on occasionally Shinigami-kun. He's so cute! (Shi-kun, I mean) Actually, he's sitting at my elbow drawing pictures with some broken off leads from a few of Quatre's pencil crayons. 

Mira's "moving in" tomorrow morning after Gil and Belle return from the synagogue. It's obvious that Quatre is excited. He's been cleaning the house top to bottom to kill time all morning and he's been practising for music class on the big piano downstairs all afternoon (the high school hasn't got a strings section, which really disappointed Quatre. Trowa's in his class and the teacher was delighted to have them. Mainly because both of them can actually play two notes in pleasant-sounding succession and Trowa *gasp!* has his own flute). With Heero and Relena, Trowa and Kari and now Quatre and Mira, it could get very interesting around here. 

Plenty of opportunities for blackmail, anyway.

December 23rd: Mira, Kari, Relena and I stayed up until 3am gossiping and giggling like twelve-year-olds, mainly about the boys. Did you know that Trowa is extremely ticklish? I have no choice now but to use that against him.

December 24th: Christma sorry. Festivus Eve! We're doing secret Santas and gift exchange tomorrow. We made a gingerbread house today and Duo took pity on Shinigami-kun and gave him a chocolate kiss, which he ate most of. This may not sound like a lot, but when your stomach is barely the size of a jellybean, most of a chocolate kiss is a lot. Wufei's been chasing him around the house with his flyswatter for a good half-hour already.

See you in the morning!!!

*****

Okay, so the dates are a bit behind compared to the present. Ah, well. I was busy. Deal.

Ja ne, minna-san!!!

-LPD *//.^*


	28. Merry Festivus, Happy New Year

__

Yello! Yup, me again after waaaay too long! Can I help it if my job and my school work are taking up most of my time? Well… and I got the first 20 episodes of Evangelion and both movies. And the first four episodes of the Rurouni Kenshin OAV. Okay, I'm a flake. I admit it. –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

I don't own Gundam or Christmas, but everything else is mine. Don't sue, don't steal.

*****

It was still pitch-black outside when Quatre groggily opened his eyes and found himself stretched out in the middle the kitchen floor like a huge starfish, if starfish wore flannel pyjama pants and sweaters that said "Niagara Falls, Canada" across the chest. It was pitch black, save for a small night-light Belle kept on for the safety of midnight snackers and the tile floor was absolutely freezing. Groaning, the Gentle Noble propped himself up on his elbows, only to find himself suddenly nose-to-nose with a hyperactive reaper. 

"Hieeeee!!!!" Shinigami-kun squealed, waving cheerily. The little reaper was wearing a pair of fuzzy pyjamas Belle had made recently for him. Despite the early hour, he already had his scythe with him. "Santa's been here!!" 

"That's nice." Quatre yawned blearily and stretched. His bare feet made squeaking noises against the kitchen floor. "How did I end up next to the refrigerator?" 

Duo popped up out of the blackness, seemingly from nowhere. "Hiya!" 

"Ah, I see. What time is it?" 

"Last time I saw a clock, it was about two am, but it took some time to drag you down the stairs."

"Two am!?!?"

Shinigami-kun grabbed Quatre's lower lip. "Shhh!" He demonstrated the preferred mode of silence with a mitten-hand placed over his own mouth. "Everyone's still sleeping!"

"Sorry, sorry." Quatre stood and popped a crick in his back. "Uh, I'm probably going to regret asking this, but why exactly did you drag me down here?"

Shinigami-kun rolled his eyes. "Because _Santa_ was here." His tone suggested that he was in the presence of a complete and utter moron. The sentence went on silently in the blond Arab's head to go "…duh."

"Right. Right, sorry." He shook away the last shreds of blessed, blessed sleep and smiled. As irritating as it was to be literally dragged from his nice, warm bed at two in the morning on a freezing cold night when the woodstove had apparently gone out again, Duo and Shinigami-kun's excitement was quickly contagious. "I'll go and wake Mira." 

"That's the spirit!" Duo nodded cheerily and snatched a pot and wooden spoon from the counter. He grinned evilly. "I'll go wake up Wufei."

*****

"Miraaaaa…." Quatre gently nudged the lump slumbering away under the covers. Slow, overlapping rhythmic breathing around him told the tale of three other girls that were still asleep. "Wakie, wakie." He began to stroke her face.

"Nmph?" Mira rolled over, her hair in wild disarray. "Hrm?"

"Morning, Sunshine." Quatre dropped a kiss on her forehead, grinning all the while. 

"Whassa time?"

"Somewhere around two-thirty in the morning."

"There's a two-thirty in the _morning _now?" the dark-haired telekinetic muttered and turned her face back into the pillow.

Rolling his eyes, Quatre plucked her from the bed and carried her to the TV room. Once there, he deposited her onto the couch. Mira sat up and glared at him.

"I said 'good morning, Sunshine'," he teased, and pecked her on the lips. "Eew. Morning breath."

"You suck." 

"And I love you, too." The Gentle Noble grinned. Down the hall, he could hear the sounds of a wooden spoon hitting stainless steel and an enraged Chinese boy screaming before the abrupt sound of another pair of feet hitting the floor. More thumping narrated a chase followed by raucous giggling from one side. Quatre shook his head, smiling. Then he snapped his fingers. "Wait here a sec." And with that, he left the room, chuckling as Duo's laughter and Wufei's shouts of rage began waking up everyone else in the house. He came back quickly with an impish grin on his face and a small, immaculately wrapped gift in his hands. "I figured while you were up…."

Mira squealed and took the box before grabbing her boyfriend by the lapels and meshing his lips to hers. "I don't usually get gifts on Christmas," she admitted after finally coming up for air. "You really shouldn't have." 

Quatre stared at her, still a little bit stunned. "Erm…but I did." Painfully aware of how red his face was becoming, regardless of how long they had been dating, he gestured at the gift. "Open it."

Excitedly, the dark-haired telekinetic pulled away the ribbon and ripped off the paper, revealing a small box of the sort jewellery usually comes in. "Oh, Quatre," she breathed.

"C'mon, Mira, open it." Aquamarine eyes sparkled with joy as the sounds of sleepy, shuffling feet and mumbles of "morning", "will you idiots _stop_ all that _yelling_!?" and "merry Chr- uh…_Festivus_" filtered in from the surrounding rooms.

Carefully, Mira opened the box and breathlessly pulled out a small silver locket dangling on a fine silver chain. Speechless, she opened it to reveal a tiny black and white picture of the two of them taken in a tiny instant photo booth while they had been Christmas shopping two weeks back. It consisted of Mira, her face lit up with the excitement of the hustle and bustle of the mall outside and Quatre with one eye on the camera and his lips firmly planted on the side of her soft neck. 

"Do you like it?" Quatre asked, his normally light voice tinged with worry. "I mean, if you don't, I can always get you another one. Or something else altogether, like a bracelet or a ring or something. No, no, wait, not a ring. We're too young for that. Not that I wouldn't like to someday, I mean-" He stopped short and replayed that last burst of speech in his head. "I'm babbling like an idiot aren't I?"

Mira's eyes were bright with tears as she reached up and hugged the blond Arab around the neck. "I absolutely love it," she assured him and laid a slim finger against his lips. Around them the sounds of footsteps were getting closer to the living room nearby. She kissed his lower lip deeply, making his ears go bright, flaming red. "We'll finish this little…_ahem_…interlude later."

The Gentle Noble breathed a sigh of relief. "Merry Christmas, love."

"Ah, ah, ah. Merry _Festivus_." The dark-haired telekinetic grinned impishly and pecked him on the nose.

"Right. Merry Festivus."

*****

This is so _cool!_ Duo could hardly contain himself as he saw the tree, its lights like twinkling stars in some simplistically complicated galactic dance, its base totally hidden by brightly coloured boxes and bags. Shinigami-kun, who was sitting on his shoulder, trembling with pent-up excitement, suddenly shrieked with glee, nearly shattering Duo's right eardrum in the process. Like a caffeine-crazed dragonfly, he zipped to a brightly wrapped box topped with a huge red bow nearly twice his size. Still shrieking, he lunged for it and smartly rapped the nametag next to the bow with the butt of his scythe. 

"This one's for me!" he exclaimed, soon-to-be owner's pride puffing up his tiny chest.

Duo grinned. _What the hell. It's Christmas._ "What, did you think the big man'd forget about you?"

"Welllll…."

From the hallway outside the door, Duo could hear the rest of the family stumbling over, Wufei being easiest to pick out. Although he had no expertise on the matter, Duo was sure that there was not one person out there who could swear better in Mandarin than him. As Duo raised his head, he caught a whiff of Belle's coffee gliding in from the coffeemaker in the kitchen. He smiled wryly.

__

Figures she'd pick through my mind and set the timer a few hours early today.

For some reason this failed to bother him like it would have a few months ago. It's amazing how quickly people get used to things. The smile became genuine as the voices came closer and the full realisation of the season hit him.

__

Christmas with a real family. Hot damn…. Who'da thought it would happen? As the Great Shinigami was reflecting on this enormous blessing, his greedy hand had somehow already made it deep into his stocking. Because Belle and Gil were trying to get one and all to "volunteer" their services in adding to the holiday cheer, (i.e., no participation, no presents.) they managed to goad Wufei into writing the placards for the stockings in kanji. Even Shinigami-kun was taken aback by the gruff young man's skill with a brush and ink stone. According to him, years of scholarly training tended to do that to a person. Duo had liked his so much that he carried it around the house, proud of how cool his name looked in calligraphy. At least until Gil took his aside and read the names on all the placards aloud to him.

"Heero, Trowa, Cathy, Shinigami-kun, Wufei, Mira, Assface, Kari, Quatre, Relena, Gil and Belle."

Needless to say, this little prank was quickly remedied, but not without a lot of snickers directed at Assface.

"Gaah…what time is it?" Trowa mumbled, walking in like he had just been resurrected. Duo was amused to see that the normally neat and tidy boy's hair was in complete disarray, making it look like a startled cat was sitting on his head. Feeling Duo's eyes, the Silencer tried to comb his wild tresses into place with his fingers.

"Close to three am." Quatre and Mira wandered in, looking all giggly and gooey-eyed. Duo sighed and sent a silent prayer that he and Misty would _never_ look like that in public. He glanced back to see the other couple try to beat each other to the couch and end up falling in a giggling heap on the same cushion.

Strike that. Never _ever._

The rest of the family meandered in, Belle clutching a cup of coffee, Wufei clutching his head as the last echoes of Duo's percussive interlude still bounced around inside. But it was the season, so, rather than risk the wrath of Belle, he simply sat on the floor by the couch and began pulling his loose hair into its customary tight ponytail. 

"Well?" he said, letting the elastic go with a taut _snap_. "What are we waiting for. Let's get Christmas or Festivus or whatever started already." The Chinese boy's eyes were fastened to a long, low gift bearing his name nearby.

The others merely looked at him.

"Could it be?" Cathy teased in a voice of mock awe. "Could big, gruff Wufei actually be excited about something other than senseless violence?" She pressed her forearm to her forehead and struck a "woe is me" pose before mock-falling into Relena's arms. "The end of the world must truly be near!"

Wufei glared at her. "After what I'm sure you know of my past years, I think you'll agree that I can allow myself at least a _small_ moment of immature anticipation for today." The words were said calmly, though no one could overlook the fact that his hands were balled tightly into fists.

Cathy looked supremely ashamed and bit her lip. "Sorry, Wufei," she mumbled.

Gil took this as his cue to step in. "Okay, okay. Enough hard feelings." He grinned suddenly. "I agree with Wufei. This place is far too calm for a bunch of people expecting a pile of presents. As of now it's every man for himself!"

The next ten minutes went by in a flurry of coloured paper, snapped ribbon, and breathless "thank you"s. The obligatory socks (AN: I got some of those… -_-;;), underwear and home made sweaters were found, exclaimed over, and surreptitiously pushed out of sight in record time, leaving full attention to be given to more interesting treasures. CDs, gift certificates, stuffed animals, a wooden tai chi sword, videos, boxes of chocolate and the like were scattered among the wads of paper and happy people when the first round was over with, leaving only the secret Santa gifts to consider. 

"Mine first?" Shinigami-kun asked hopefully, hovering over the relatively huge gift he had staked claim on earlier.

Belle laughed richly. "Go ahead."

The tiny reaper took this as his cue and immediately flew madly around the present, slashing at the present like a berserker in heated battle until the paper, reduced to a few sad, tattered shreds, finally gave in to the inevitable and fell off. Rather than having to sit through the slashing of a poor, defenceless box, Relena risked losing a finger and opened it for him. Inside the box was a tiny bed, complete with carved head- and foot-boards and minuscule blankets and a mattress. The tag tied to the bedpost said "From Gil".

"I figured that old bowl you're sleeping in now looked a little plain, so I made you something nicer to sleep in," Gil explained shyly, obviously glad that his tiny friend was so delighted with his gift. "The sheets and mattress are from a toy store, though."

"Let Wufei open his next," Relena suggested. She gestured to a long, skinny package leaning against the wall by the tree. "I'm curious to know just what that thing is."

Wufei shrugged and ripped the paper off. The gift was merely a three-foot piece of doweling. The tag said "From Duo, Merry Festivus".

"Maxwell, what the hell is this?" Wufei said, looking pointedly at the doweling.

"It's a great big stick."

Mira rolled her eyes. "What a deduction! Way to go, Captain Obvious."

"Why a stick?" This from Heero. He and Relena were squeezed into an armchair and Duo was astonished to see Heero's hand resting easily on Relena's hip. Apparently the Perfect Soldier was about ready to let it be visible to the naked eye that he and Relena had been dating for the last two months.

Duo stood up. "Wellll, it's a replacement stick," he said, inching towards the door.

"Oh, really?" Wufei stood up now, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Yeah, well, the one that's already up your ass probably should have been retired by now," Duo said this as he was in the act of turning around and bolting from the room. Wufei snarled, grabbed the doweling and bolted after him, the look in his eyes confirming that the stick was certainly going to end up jammed in someone, and he was going to do the jamming. 

While Wufei and Duo were busy running around the house, their screams punctuated with muffled crashes and thuds as the stick missed its mark, the rest of the family took this opportunity to carry on without them. Belle got earrings from Relena, Quatre got sheet music from Cathy, Heero got a sweatshirt from Heero and so on. Then came Kari's gift.

Her slender, sensitive fingers explored the contours of the gift Gil handed her, searching for a clue. The scarred fighter's lower lip quickly pushed out into a pretty pout as she realised the gift was perfectly square and therefore non-guessable. She shook it next to her ear, listening to the contents rattle inside. Then, to the surprise of the others, she brought it to her face and sniffed it. 

**Mmm.** The thought came out much like a self-satisfied purr. **I _thought_ it smelled good. **With that, she stripped off the paper and closed her hand around the tag inside. Sensitive fingers felt their way over the card, reading the Braille letters punched into it.

**Love, Trowa. **Kari blushed slightly and opened the box. Reaching inside, she pulled out a small tube of lip gloss, its flavour printed in a Braillelabelglued to the side. **"Cherry Berry Blast"?** **What the hell? **Despite the choice of words, her tone was that of coy amusement.

"Flavoured lip stuff." Trowa bit his lower lip, his catlike eyes suddenly developing a saucy gleam to them. "I was thinking we could try them all out. Together."

The shade of red on Kari's face right then was so bright it rivalled the lights on the tree. She shook the box. **That could take a while.**

"We'll have try some a few times to get the desired effect." Trowa grinned. "Not to mention those we could end up forgetting the taste of. If we keep forgetting, we could be at it _forever_!"

Kari blushed harder. **I'd like that,** she admitted, smiling shyly.

Cathy pretended to throw up behind the couch.

"Okay, okay, enough of that," Gil chuckled and leaned out the living room door to call Wufei and Duo back in. The slightly winded two trooped in, Wufei first with a triumphant grin and then Duo, who alternated between rubbing the back of his head and glaring blackly at Wufei. Gil sighed and made them sit at opposite ends of the room. "My present is next," the old wizard grinned.

"What about mine?" Duo all but whined.

Mira tossed a small box at him. "We opened it without you. You got a watch. Merry Christmas." 

"Oh."

"Ummm…." Cathy was tossing around wads of wrapping paper in search of Gil's gift. "Where-? Oh, wait." She handed him a manila envelope with "Gil" printed on it in neat block letters. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Flicking a small knife from his subspace pocket, Gil carefully slit the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of papers. Quickly his eyes scanned over the first few sheets of paper. Shinigami-kun was sitting on his shoulder, clinging to his neck. Suddenly Gil's eyes filled with tears.

"What is it?" Quatre asked, startled.

Shinigami-kun leaned over to peek at the paper. Then, reaching up, he tugged on Gil's ear. "What's 'otou-san' mean?"

Belle plucked the sheets from her husband's hands and quickly read the first few lines aloud: "Merry Festivus, Otou-san, Heero." A crystal tear of her own slipped furtively down her cheek. "They're adoption papers."

Heero simply watched them, his hand still on Relena's hip, an uncharacteristic small smile creeping onto his face. "What do you say?"

Gil grinned at him, tears now soaking into his beard. "Of course, child. Of course!"

"How did you manage to get these?" Belle shuffled quickly through the sheets. "They look almost complete." 

"Watertight. Just sign and the process will be underway." Heero was grinning now, an unfamiliar show of emotion on the normally deadpan face. "I have my ways."

"Why Otou-san?" queried Gil.

Heero shrugged as best he could with Relena's head on his shoulder. " 'Daddy' always sounded stupid to me." 

"Ah," Belle laughed suddenly. "I've never been an okaa-chan before."

The whole family sat back then, allowing themselves to bask in the warm afterglow of Chri –Festivus and to help themselves to a now-opened box of chocolates Mira had gotten. The warm silence was shattered, however, by Shinigami-kun launching himself from Gil's shoulder in a pint-sized panic, which almost caused his perch to choke on a cherry liqueur. 

"I forgot!" Shinigami-kun squealed, "I got Wufei something!" With that, the tiny reaper zipped from the room, taking a hasty bite of Gil's chocolate as he went by.

Sighing gustily, Wufei threw himself on the one remaining spot of couch and put his head in his hands. "What are you willing to bet," he groaned, "that it's something to get me back for the flyswatter?"

"Why are you so mean to him?" Duo demanded, angry that his miniature was getting slammed.

"He's so _annoying_!" Wufei stood up and began pacing the length of the room. "He's always talking at me, he always wants me to play with him _and he won't leave me the hell alone_!!" He shot a pointed look at Duo. "Much like a travel-sized version of you, Maxwell."

"He loves you, Wufei," Quatre cut in. "You're his idol!"

"Bullshit." The Solitary Dragon picked an almond candy from the box, sat on the coffee table and moodily began sucking the chocolate off. "He jut wants to torment me." 

"Can I have some help out here?" Shinigami-kun's voice came in from hallway through the closed door.

Kari stood and went to him, shutting the door behind herself.

The family sat in silence, waiting.

****

Awww, Kari's "voice" cooed in their collective minds.** How cuuuute!** "Ah, crap." Wufei crushed the almond between his teeth.

Kari entered then, Shinigami-kun perched proudly on her shoulder, a small grey kitten with a half-chewed ribbon around its neck yawning drowsily in her arms. A tiny tag attached to the ribbon said "To Wufei, Love Shi-kun."

"Ah, crap." The words "I'm screwed" seemed to have been suddenly etched on his forehead.

"I got him from a nice mama cat at the Keep." Shinigami-kun beamed at Wufei. "So you'd like me."

"Ah, crap." Wufei suddenly looked trapped.

Kari strode up to the stunned Chinese boy and deposited the sleepy kitten in his lap. The kitten mewed at him, padded over to his hand and promptly began gnawing on his thumb. Wufei didn't even wince.

"Ah, crap."

"Do you like me now?" Shinigami-kun winged anxiously until he was about a millimetre from the Solitary Dragon's nose. "_Pleeeease_?"

"_Ahhhh, crap_!!!" was all Wufei said, bowling the tiny reaper over in mid-air with the atomic force of morning breath. He stood up, unconsciously cradling the kitten against his chest much one would with a baby, and plucked the reaper out of Midori. "Fine!" he said. "I'll be more civil to you! Just stop pouting at me like that!"

The lower lip was sucked in in record time. "Yaaaay!!!!"

Wufei huffed and sat back down, idly petting his new companion. "Of all the dirty, underhanded little…" he groused under his breath. Underneath his hand, the tiny feline began to purr.

Stifling a laugh, Relena reached out to pet the furry little head. "I think he's cute." She began scratching behind a tiny ear. "What will you call him?" 

This innocent question of course, sparked a huge argument over what to call the newest member of the family. Suggestions ranging from "Thor" to **Mr. Bootsy, or else I'll pull off your arms **("Kari!" Belle scolded while Wufei sat horrified on the coffee table. "That's not funny!") were cast in, repeated back and quickly scrapped. Finally Wufei rolled his eyes and said the first name that came to mind, which ended up being the name of some distant relative, a cousin in fact. 

"His name is Xiao. Period."

Belle stood up. "Well! That was fun," she said, briskly gathering up her coffee mug. "Now, how about a spot of breakfast?"

"Yeah!"

The psionicist shot a pointed look at the piles of paper, gifts and teenagers littering the room. "_After_ this room is made spotless."

"_Awwww_!"

*****

"Hurry up, Duo!" Heero shouted, pounding on the bathroom door. "How long does it take to fix your hair?"

"Hey, hey, this braid, I'll have you know is a work of fine art!" Duo called from the other side of the door. "And fine art cannot be rushed."

"You have six seconds before I break down the door and kill you with your 'work of art'."

"I'm done." Duo said quickly, self-preservation kicking over all notions of vanity. He opened the door and did a quick turn to show off his outfit. "Whaddaya think?"

Heero flicked a glance at Duo's black-trousers-white-jacket combo and raised an eyebrow. "Very James Bond."

"Yeah, isn't it awesome?" He gave Heero's traditional black tux an appraising glance and flicked a bit of lint from his lapel. "You look good. Planning on picking up?"

"Shut up." Heero stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

"_Wooo-ooo_! Touch_ee_!!!" 

"You can't blame him," Trowa said, coming up behind Duo and scaring the living shit out of him. He was wearing a black tux much like Heero's, though the cut of the jacket was longer and he wore a gold wire pin borrowed from Gil in lieu of a tie. "It's New Year's Eve and Relena's got the flu. What could suck more than that?"

The braided boy raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Aww, you're just bitter because Kari's staying home with her." 

Trowa shrugged. "So Heero and I are going to come home a little earlier. Big deal. It's better to give the first kiss of the year in private without being stared at by a bunch other people. It allows you to get creative." He quirked an eyebrow. "_If _you get my meaning?"

Throwing up his hands, the Great Shinigami sighed. "I give _up_."

"I said I'm not going!!"

"Wufei, darling, you hardly go out to begin with," Belle's voice pleaded after his retreating back. Clad in an evening gown of deep violet –there was a party about to go on at the Keep- she hurried after the Solitary Dragon. "Maybe you'll find a nice girl and-"

"_No_!" Wufei stomped down the hall. He wore a charcoal-black silk jacket and pants in his favourite traditional Chinese style. A silver pin not unlike Trowa's fastened it at the throat and a phoenix design brocaded at the hem of the jacket seemed to swirl like water at his knees as he stomped through the hall in the direction of his room. At his heels, Xiao was toddling after him. 

Duo intercepted him, causing Xiao to bump into his master's feet with a cranky mew. "C'mon Wu-man, it'll be boring without you," he lied through his teeth. "You'll have a blast! Some food, maybe dancing, a nip of cham-" the Great Shinigami caught a dark glare from Belle, "-uh, ginger ale. Canada Dry ginger ale, in fact, which is the champagne of ginger ales! (AN: or at least that's what the advertisement says.) It'll be a blast! So what if you're a little nervous?" 

Wufei glared at him and picked up Xiao. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Duo!" Gil's voice cut through the pair of dark glares directed in Duo's direction. "Misty's here!"

"Thanks!" Duo called, relieved to be let off the hook and hurried his way past the sulky Solitary Dragon to the kitchen downstairs. Misty was sitting at the table, nursing a glass of Diet Coke Gil must have gotten her –she always said the regular stuff was too sweet for her tastes. For a moment, Duo just stood there, drinking in how incredible she looked. The tiny bard's slender frame was wrapped in an off-the-shoulder dress in forest green. Her hair was bound back with what looked like a bronze headband and a matching choker circled her throat. The braided ex-pilot decided to make his entrance.

"Hellooooo, Sexy!"

The red-haired bard almost dropped her glass. "Don't _do _that!" 

Grinning, he strode over and lay a kiss on her. "Mmm," he purred after. "Fizzy."

"Cute." Misty rolled her eyes. "Not funny, but cute."

A sketchy bow acknowledged her zinger, followed by a lopsided smile. "I try my best." 

"Hey! You guys ready to party?" Duo and Misty looked up to see Quatre and Mira standing arm in arm in the doorway. Quatre, dashing in a pearl-grey suit and Mira, a vision in star-speckled black velvet, pulled out some chairs and sat down with the other couple. Duo noticed the locket she'd gotten from Quatre was hanging just above her breasts. It really was pretty. He leaned in to get a better look at it. At least until he felt Misty's foot jab hard into his shin.

"Hi. Is everyone ready to go yet?" Misty already had her keys in her hand. She shot a "don't you dare" look at him. It was creepy the way she could do that with her eyes and smile at him with her mouth at the same time.

"Well…." Quatre gave her a tolerant smile. "Belle is still threatening to kill Wufei with her evening bag if he doesn't 'get your butt out the door and enjoy yourself, dammit!' and Heero and Trowa are still saying goodbye to Relena and Kari, so this could take a while."

"Ready!" Trowa called from the upper level, and in a moment he, Heero and a sullen-looking Wufei were at the base of the stairs.

"Speak of the devil," Mira smiled.

"Good to see you!" Misty cried, throwing herself at Wufei for a hug, which he provided, if only out of shock.

Duo laughed silently at them._ Only Misty could pull off something like that and live._

"Let's get going." Ever-punctual Heero was already shrugging on his coat. 

"Sure." Duo grinned. Tonight was going to be like no other. He could feel it in his bones. "Bye, guys! See you next year!!"

"Bye, kids!" Belle and Gil called from their bedroom upstairs. 

A chorus of "bye"s answered them back, accompanied with a flurry of coats.

"And no drinking, Duo!"

"But it's the champagne of ginger ales, Belle! The champagne of ginger ales!"

"I said no! Now go have fun with your friends!"

"Awwww…."

*****

Standing at the window of her bedroom, Belle watched Misty's grandfather's van pull away from the house, her hands occupied with the stubborn hasp of a necklace. Sneaking up behind her, Gil laid a hungry kiss at the nape of her neck. "Here," he said, taking the hasp from her. "Allow me."

"Thank you." The ageless woman's voice was faint.

Gil frowned. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"I…. I was looking around in the Prophecies this morning," Belle admitted. 

"Oh?"

"They still aren't writing any more clues." The Prophecies were the greatest-kept secret in the entirety of the Keep. Only the most high-ranking officials were permitted to study and record their bounty before old words faded away to make room for the new and the most tight-lipped silence was kept concerning them. On a lectern in a tightly warded room in the deepest heart of the Keep away from the prying eyes of the rest of the inhabitants, the Prophecies lay; a single, leather-bound volume that wrote its own history according to tiny bends and dents that appeared in the Bond. For most times, periods lasting generations upon generations, they lay dormant, not a word being inked between the closed pages. But a few times within a ten-year span, an obscure line or two was inscribed and from there it was copied down, recorded and checked against every other line, theory, or idea those who studied the Prophecies had at their mercy. This phenomenon occurred very seldom; even achieving the tenuous understanding of a line once a year was cause for quiet celebration. But now there was smothered apprehension among those who read the Prophecies. 

Since Belle's children had arrived, two full paragraphs had appeared between the yellowed pages.

"Not even half a sentence?"

Belle shook her head. "Nothing at all. Just the same ambiguous words as before. I did manage to figure something out tonight, though." Judging from her voice, she didn't seem happy about it.

"Mmm?" His gnarled hands finished with the hasp at the base of his wife's neck, Gil wrapped his arms around her waist for comfort. "What did you find out?"

"Something's going to happen tonight."

*****

__

The next chapter's going to be up faster (hopefully) so stay tuned!!!

--LPD *//.^*


	29. New Year's Morn

__

Hiee! Just got back from a weeklong vacation at Myrtle Beach (the weather there is sooo much different from that in Canada, let me tell you). My spoils? About a pound and a half of manga which is simply not available in Canada and a kickass Sohryu Asuka Langley model for fifteen bucks! Also, I got me an online Neopet. While I was surfing the site, however, I found that there's a Neopet named Alaryan!! Does anyone know if this is a fluke, or if I actually had something to do with this? I'm just curious is all. Email me and tell me, purty please!! –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^* 

*****

Mira opened her eyes to a field of utter whiteness broken only by the twisted hunter green metal corpse of what was once Zach Gaevrien's van.

_Cold…_

She sat up.

__

I'm in the snow. Dawn danced upon the pristine crests, forcing the telekinetic to squint against it. Tremulously she stood up, her back against the bole of a tree, fully aware now that her body felt completely alien to her. 

__

What happened?

Fuzzy half-memories began to surface as Mira forced herself to move towards the deeply rutted road that would eventually take her away from this grave of twisted alloy and to the Ichara home. Memories of black cars screaming into the van, of metal crunching as huge men and women wrenched off the doors assaulted her.

_Were they fighters?_

Shouting. And sharp pains. Needle-sharp darts dipped in muscle relaxants. Mira knew their sting all too well. And collars. She dipped her head, feeling the chilling metal of the collar grip momentarily at her chin. Snow spattered with rusty-coloured blood crunched under her bare feet, though only the sound told her it was trodden below her feet. 

__

No bodies, though. 

At least they remembered to take away the evidence. Black Hood had been uncharacteristically sloppy of late. The smoke from the Ichara chimney was visible on the horizon now.

__

I killed as many as I could.

A memory of a huge blast followed by piercing pain and mind-numbing cold.

_They_ shot_ me?_

Mira laid a hand on her right breast, only to be greeted by that same searing pain, though by now it was less. The collar had shut away her telekinetic power, but not her unnatural healing process. It was that alone which kept her from freezing to death. She smirked in spite of herself. The stupid bastards had to have been new. No veteran would take such a huge chance as to leave a Black Hood freak for dead.

_They used amateurs this time._

Still totally numb, Mira ran her hand over the wound in her breast and brought it up to her face to see the extent of the damage. Suddenly, her heart seemed to freeze solid within the confines of her chest. Hanging from her fingers was a small silver locket on a delicate silver chain. Black Hood agents had certainly come, that much she knew, but she had not been alone when they did.

But she was alone now.

"No…." Her tongue felt unbearably thick in her mouth as she forced the word out.

Where else could they have all gone? Mira forced herself into a clumsy, half-loping, half-falling run, desperate now to get to the Ichara house. 

__

Please God, not Black Hood...

*****

_So ends the first part of Alaryan's Keep, "Freaks". Stay tuned for the second part: "Humanity Stolen" _

Ja ne!

--LPD *//.^*


	30. Lady Morpheus

__

Hey, all! Sorry for the wait, but a lot has been going on lately. I turned eighteen this Wednesday! I am now the age of majority, but I still have a year to wait out before I can drink legally! Happy reading! –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

****

ALARYAN'S KEEP

PART II

"HUMANITY STOLEN"

"Please, do take some more."

The fat man groaned and sat back in his chair. "I really shouldn't," he said, nevertheless eyeing the last shred of roast lamb swimming in its own gravy. 

Walker smiled sweetly at him and picked up the serving fork. "Really. I insist."

Fatty grinned. "Well, if you _insist_." He accepted the meat and immediately tore into it. "Y'know," he said between mouthfuls, "for a freak, you certainly know how to set out a kickass spread."

The sweet smile grew ironic for a moment as Walker surveyed the hanging potbelly and sweat-stained armpits of the man sitting at the other end of the table. "Indeed. For a freak." Around the table, the four wizards' faces were frozen into emotionless masks.

Walker sighed inwardly. It was already March, more than three months since Misty and the boys were abducted and the search for them was growing more and more desperate as the days went on. Black Hood was obviously the abductors, but with such a wide network, there was no way of looking for them without arousing suspicion and perhaps even endangering their lives. To make matters worse, other people –Bhaarliads, humans and others alike- in the Keep and even in town were also missing, with the lists growing more and more every week and still there was no proof to implicate Black Hood and get an investigation underway. 

That would be where the man at the table came in.

"So, Douglas-"

"Just Doug."

"Right. Forgive me." Walker sat back. Doug mirrored him. "So, _Doug, _you probably know why you've been invited here to Alaryan's Keep, right?"

The fat man picked knowingly at his red Federation for Human Purity armband and cast a quick glance at the private Keep dining room in a poor show of indifference. "Yeah. Because I might know where all those missing people are. And all those freaks that you guys are missing, too. And I might know exactly where your little sister and the ancient Jew's boys are."

To his credit, Gil said nothing.

"Correct." Rearranging his woollen maroon robes, Walker crossed his legs. He wet his lips with the goblet by his elbow and continued. "You say you're an employee of Black Hood?"

"Yeah." Doug barely held back a belch and wiped his nose in the fine linen napkin balled up next to his plate. "I'm a security guard."

"Ah." Nat nodded, obviously surprised this man was in charge of safety.

"Yes." Walker picked up the goblet again and began running his fingers over the raised design on it. "Have you seen my sister or any other of the prisoners?" _Please, God. Let him know something. Mom and Dad can't take the strain anymore. _He thought of his mother, who barely wanted to get out of bed and of his father, who ate little and said even less. And of Ria and Tama, whom he heard consoling each other over and over every night in a flood of tears. _Anything! Please!_

A sly look stole over the wide face. "Maybe."

_Shit._ "Maybe?"

"Maybe if I can find the…incentive?" The security guard cracked his knuckles suggestively against the table.

__

So that's_ the kind of game you want to play._ Walker leaned in on his elbows, cradling his chin in his hands. "What type of incentive? Money, perhaps? We have plenty of that."

Doug leaned in as well, mirroring him again. It struck Walker suddenly that this was a man who probably couldn't find his own individuality if it slapped him in the ass. The candlelight sent a thin gleam into the corners of Doug's mouth where he had missed with the napkin. "Who needs money? You said yourself that you have plenty, but people are still disappearing, aren't they? Did it keep your people safe? No. Black Hood has your brats and now other people are missing, too." He grinned in serpentine manner. "No, gentlemen. I want something that will place me in the good graces of the Federation for Human Purity until the very day I die." 

"Oh?" Walker asked warily. 

"Yeah. I want a fully-grown freak. Dead or alive, it doesn't matter to me. Preferably a female one. And tame. I don't want no live wires." The fat jowls were pushed aside to make way for another grin as he fondled his armband. "The Federation could use a new mascot. I think a dead freak'd do just fine, don't you?"

"Absolutely _not_!!"

"It seems to me,_ Lord _Walker," the words were accompanied by a wad of spit aimed at the floor, "that you don't have much choice in this matter. Now either I walk out of here with the promise of a tame freak and you get your info or I just walk out of here and you get diddly-shit." He sat back. "I leave the decision up to you."

"What about all those regular people Black Hood is taking?" Talon broke in. He was gripping his dinner knife so hard his knuckles had turned white. "Surely the Federation doesn't condone the abandonment of other normals, does it?"

Doug made an expansive "so what" gesture with his hands. "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, gentlemen. The Federation's just in the middle. Who are we to mess around with that?"

"A Federation member quoting from the Good Book? How very ironic."

Six male head swivelled to stare at the female figure standing against the doorframe. Mira was leaning in the doorway dressed in a revealing costume of tight satin and gauzy silks. She quirked an eyebrow and strode into the room, coquettishly calm and dangerously feminine. "Hello, Douglas," she purred, draping an arm over his chair. "Remember me?"

Doug's face was already dead white. "L-L-Lady Morpheus!"

"In the flesh, fat boy." She stood less than a foot away from him, her translucent wraps still swirling like liquid around her. Leaning over, Mira began to stroke a slender finger slowly up and down the bend of his neck. From his face it was clear that Doug wanted to recoil in horror, but was too terrified to do so. Fascinated, Walker and the wizards did nothing.

"Now." The lovely face suddenly turned hard and her tone grew icy. "Where are Quatre and the others?" 

Doug managed a whimper.

"_Answer me!_" The words seemed to carry murder in their very harmonics. 

"The Seattle base!" Doug squeaked. "All of them are there! Black Hood wants to challenge you to a tournament. Winner gets the prisoners!"

"And?" Walker strode forward, his façade of the perfect host dissolving with each step to make way for the visage of the warrior lord. He suddenly seemed huge, standing next to Mira. "What if I decide to attack now?"

"All of the prisoners are fitted with suicide collars!" The security guard's voice was harsh. "As soon as it looks like you've launched an attack, the collars will be detonated and you'll have nothing but corpses to fight for."

"Dammit!" Walker lashed out and punched the wall, leaving a deep pit in the solid stone wall above Doug's head. Pale stone dust sifted onto the fat man's shoulders. "How long?"

"Five weeks. They plan on challenging you soon and the tournament will be in five weeks."

"Five weeks," Mira repeated. Behind her the wizards began to advance like ominous shades in woollen robes. "Black Hood dares to make us wait five weeks?"

"Would you rather attack now and be the cause of their deaths?"

Talon stepped forward. "So if we win, we get the children and the other hostages back, correct?"

"Y-yeah."

"What if we lose?"

"I don't know. My security clearance doesn't stretch that far." Doug bit his lip and sat up straighter. "Not that it's any problem of mine. Either they live or they die. I don't care either way."

Walker snarled and from behind, the wizards could see the back of his robes bulge as his wings threatened to flare out in his anger. He backed off, pulling Mira with him. "Get out of my sight." The Lord of Alaryan's Keep shouted over his shoulder for a guard to escort the Federation member out. He pulled a small lump of gold from his pocket and flung it at the terrified man. "This never happened. You never came here. We never spoke about anything. Now take this and get the hell out of my Keep."

Ryu appeared at the door then, bloody eyes blazing. Doug fairly sprinted to him and allowed himself to be led out, what little dignity he might have still had dissolving now into nothing. 

Mira spat, heedless of the priceless carpet below her feet. "Bastard." She breathed deeply, easing the tension from her shoulders. "Gil, could I have your outer robe, please? I'm _freezing_ in this damn thing." She gestured to her tiny costume.

He handed it to her. "What the hell happened?"

The telekinetic gave him a sad smile. "It's not only fighters who get into the Ring. Mental adepts were another favourite pass time. I was one of their best. They called me Lady Morpheus." A fat tear trailed down her chin followed by another, but her voice kept steadily on. "It's amazing what happens to a man when you can make his blood boil. I was thirteen when I figured that out and it became my signature move." She bit her lip. And my God, how the crowd loved it."

"Oh, child…." Gil sighed sadly and held her close as she suddenly burst into tears.

Zach ventured forward, tentatively laying a hand on Walker's shoulder. "Walker? You all right?"

The Lord of Alaryan's Keep looked tiredly over his shoulder at his maternal grandfather. "We have very little time to lose. Make it known that a challenge is soon to be issued. Find Kari and Darien and send them to my office immediately." He nodded to Ryu, whose bloody red eyes glinted in tightly controlled rage, for he had heard everything. "The tournament will be soon. We must begin our training."

*****

At last, the plot thickens! The next chapter's a long one, too!!

Ja ne!

--LPD *//.^*


	31. Along Four Weeks

__

Here you guys go! Sorry for the immense wait, but a lot has been going on. Prom is in a month, and right after that comes the anime con (My very first one! Hurrah!) and I just got early acceptance to three great universities, so school is now my #1 top priority (bleeeaaaarrrgh!). But enough of my prattling! Enjoy, minna-san! – Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^* 

*****

__

My children…Are they even still alive?

****

Mother?

Belle looked up from where she sat in the centre of her bed, and scrubbed a shaking hand over her eyes. "Yes, Kari?"

****

It came today. Kari stepped into Gill and Belle's bedroom, her hands lightly brushing the doorframe, for today the sun was bright outside and she wore her blindfold to avoid its stinging rays.

"What did, dear?" Standing up from her bed, the ageless psionicist quickly shed her mask of grief for one of expressionlessness. 

A sheet of paper was fluttered onto the bed. Belle picked it up. It was a photocopy of something. 

****

Black Hood has formally challenged us. We have one month from tomorrow to prepare. Walker, Darien, Ryu and myself are to go.

Belle dropped the paper and leaned heavily against her nightstand. "Why hasn't the law gotten involved? Or the government? The prize is human lives, for God's sake!"

****

  
There's no evidence. Black Hood has gotten good at covering themselves. If we tell about the prisoners, then they'll all be killed. There's even a dummy prize of one billion dollars to make it look legitimate. We're trapped any way we turn.

"Any news on what happens if we lose?"

****

No, Black Hood is still keeping that their own little secret.

Belle set the photocopy on her dresser, touching it like it was lethally poisonous. She bit her lip. "I see you've taken to sleeping in Trowa's bed," she said. It wasn't an accusation, but merely a statement of fact. Perhaps that's why it stung all the worse.

Even without turning, Belle could almost feel Kari's entire frame stiffen. **Perhaps,** she replied carefully.

"You miss him." Belle's tone explicitly spoke of how frightened she knew Kari was. Of how she terrified she was of losing the one who she had fallen so willingly for. Of how with such little time Trowa had touched her heart like no one ever had. Of how she wanted nothing more than to hold him once again. It was terrifying how much she could say with so few words. 

****

Yes, Kari admitted. **I do.**

"You love him." 

Silence.

"It wasn't a question, Kari. I know completely aware of how you feel. I'm just afraid that you might not know it yourself. Both of you have had such little love. It was like I could feel your minds clinging to each other's."

Kari still said nothing.

"If it's any comfort to you, he loves you back. I could feel it whenever he looked at you." Belle's hands restlessly travelled over the contents of her dresser as she spoke, caressing a bottle of perfume, fingering the bristles on her hairbrush. It was as if her hands were desperate to find the smallest portions of normalcy and hold them fast. Her voice trembled. "He's gone from my mind's grasp -they all are. It's the suicide collars. They block out any outside minds. But I know he loves you still."

****

I know. The blinded fighter slumped onto the bed and drew her knees up to her chest like she did as a little girl freshly rescued from the hold of Black Hood. Belle sat next to her, hugging her like a tiny blonde child, catching the fruity smell of the lip gloss Trowa had given Kari for Christmas. A tiny gasp fought past Kari's lips and silently, tearlessly, she began to cry.

****

Why him, Mother? Why Misty? Why any of them?

"Because Black Hood wants to make our lives hell, child. All they've left us is a tiny precipice to stand on." The ageless woman brushed Kari's bangs from her face. "All we can do is claw our way to the edge and try to push the bastards off." Gently, she kissed Kari's cheek and let her go, moving to her dresser to pull something from its depths. Sitting back on the bed, she laid her find in Kari's hands. "Here."

Sensitive fingers travelled over the hard, glassy surface of the treasure and down to the ornately coiled metal base. **What is this?**

"It's a thoughtdrop." Belle sat down and laid the fighter's head on her lap. "Tell it your outlooks. Let it be like a diary of thought." She gently stroked Kari's hair in a gesture of motherly camaraderie. "You can put down some romantic thoughts to show to Trowa later on if you like. I won't look in it and no one need ever know I gave it to you."

Kari said nothing, but wrapped her arms around Belle's shoulders and squeezed. **Thank you, Mother. **

"You're welcome, child."

Gil found them hours later, still sitting on the edge of the bed, Kari's head on Belle's lap. Belle smiled bravely at her husband as he entered the room and stood, easing Kari onto the bed. Gil took her up in his arms as she laid her head on his shoulder and softly began to cry. 

"There's nothing we can do now." 

*****

****

Some people say that when you love someone enough, you would do anything for them. I didn't know this was actually true until I turned fourteen and became what some people would call a 'normal girl'. I was suddenly granted a mother and a father. That was my introduction to familial love, a love that my own mother, the famed Aletha the Render never showed me. Soon after, I met Misty and she became my best friend and after that I met Relena, Cathy, Duo, Quatre, Wufei and Heero. That's the love of true friends. It was only recently that I got to discover the other kind -that wonderful, terrifying kind of love- until I met Trowa. 

And now Black Hood is trying to take it all away from me. 

Haven't they done enough to me!? They've already ravaged my sight, my body, my childhood. Why do they want my love as well?

Our training began today. The fiery hammer of God is now raised. Soon we will be ready enough to let it fall. 

Black Hood will pay.

*****

__

The woods are burning. Run faster, boy.

Panting with fear, the boy, his body covered over in scars, still runs, his child's body racked with pain as his oxygen starved muscles scream for air. Still he runs, fear taking precedent over mere bodily pain. Landscape flashes by in a confused blur, blending into one: fire ravaged woodlands; cities totally destroyed, their buildings ripped apart; an immense stone Keep, its grounds awash with fresh blood; laboratories of clones, the fluid drained from their tanks, slowly suffocating. 

__

It's your doing, boy.

And still he runs.

The inside of a hospital flashes by, voices ringing within.

"…still no progress, neither good nor bad…"

"…everything still hangs in stasis…"

"…Nurse, my eyes are bleeding again…" 

"…why won't you just let me die!?!?!"

__

You could have saved them.

The kitchen of a home, filled again with voices.

"…my chest…it burns…"

"…cut…cut…watch it bleed…cut…cut…watch it bleed…"

"…dammit, don't die on me!!!"

"…what the hell happened to us…?"

__

They loved you and you left them.

A black Void, filled with nothingness. 

"…the Judges await your verdict…"

"…join the Righteous…"

"…be the Forsaken…"

"…_choose_…"

__

But you won't, will you?

A man with black hair is standing now in a field. His eyes dart like frightened children in their sockets, his hands making erratic movements in his sleeves. He smiles, his teeth slick with blood glinting in the midday sun. He turns, and his body silently disappears, flocks of birds flying madly from his vacant clothes.

A boy is wearing a stone on a fine silver chain around his head. He is surrounded by dreamdrops, watching them glint and twirl. Each one shows him their bounty, filling him again and again with affection and horror as he watches. There is a something in his hand. Slowly, dazedly, he depresses it and his ashes are scattered with the wind.

A boy in a blindfold stands with a girl by his side. She stares, emerald green eyes glinting in the sun, her long hair blowing loose in the wind. The boy clutches his abdomen, writhing in pain as he stands, his face a rictus of pure horror. Something evil grows inside him.

A girl wearing a dress that is torn up the bodice, revealing the silhouette of a rose branded into her pale flesh, is crying. She wears a wedding band that sparkles in the painful brightness of the sun. A boy next to her wears its twin, his hands clutching his midsection, his mouth locked in a silent scream of pain. That which is evil wishes to consume him as well.

A boy surrounded by birds holds a sword, his eyes crying but his face locked in a scowl as a bird rests easily on his shoulder. A young woman's shadow passes over him, laughing, but it is fleeting and soon fades to nothing.

Two lovers locked in each other's arms see nothing but each other, drinking one another in, even as pestilence eats them from the inside out. 

A boy wearing golden bracers watches them all. His hands are locked over the hole that has opened where he has been stabbed through the heart. His eyes see all, but remain inwardly dead.

The boy with the scars stops running. His body cries for rest, but he cannot grant it. No. Not here. 

A man with the form of a great, black cat stands before him, feline hands curled around a slender staff. _Fate. _That which gleefully watches lives tear themselves apart.That which tortures its prey before finally allowing it to die. It watches the boy lying in a terrified heap at its feet and smiles.

__

Run to daylight, boy. Run to the night. Either way, I shall be awaiting your arrival.

Dreamily, dazed with exhaustion and fear, the child watches as Darkness and Light gather in wonder around him and pull back, just as Fate raises its staff and plunges it downward, its needle-sharp tip aiming straight and true for the boy's heart.

__

Remember this, boy: 

You will always belong to me…

*****

"Nat! _Nat!_" Shaking him by the lapels of his pyjamas, Iondra finally jerked her husband awake. "Wake up!"

Nat sat up, gasping. His face was pale as the moonlight filtering in through the window of their bedroom and his hair was sodden with sweat. "Wha-"

"You were shouting in your sleep, Nat."

The elderly mage scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. "I saw another one."

The fiery-eyed sorceress hunkered closer to him, fascination etched clearly on her face. "Another vision?" she asked in wonder. "Is it the same one you've been having lately?" She sat up. "Did it have an ending this time?"

"Yes," Nat admitted, getting out of bed. He made his way to the bathroom and Iondra could hear the rush of the tap fighting for dominance over her husband's voice. "But it was different this time. There was more detail. And that ending…." There was a pause as Nat drained the cup of water he'd filled for himself. "I think this vision could be definite."

"Nat, you know that's completely impossible!" Iondra scolded. Nat sighed and got back into bed, but didn't answer. "The stream of time is far too unsure for there to be such thing as a definite occurance. You're just imagining things."

"No, I'm not."

"It's impossible, Nachtaim Raihynn, and I'm quite sure you are more than aware of that!" 

"We also thought that the Prophecies getting more than four lines a year was impossible," Nat reminded her, his voice rising. "I know what I saw, woman, and I can tell you for certain that it wasn't hazy in the least!"

"A fine thing to say!" Iondra shouted back. "Do you even have any idea when this elusive vision will happen, or even what it's telling you!?"

Silence.

"I _thought_ so."

Biting back a snarl, Nat reached under his pillow and pulled out a freshly filled dreamdrop. "Either way, I can run this thing past the others and see what can be pulled from it. Now let's let this thing drop and get some bloody sleep!" He tossed the drop back under his pillow and lay back down. "Everyone is already under enough stress as it is. Don't make it worse by insisting that you're right."

Iondra sniffed at him. "And what if I am right?"

Nat rolled over to look at her. So close were they that she could feel his beard tickling her face. "Honestly my dear," he said, his voice terribly grave, "you have no idea how much I'm hoping you are." He rolled back over. "Good night."

Iondra bit her lip and threw an arm around his waist, though she knew full well that it was too little too late. "Good night, dear." She closed her eyes and tried to think of how right she knew she was, but even then it was a long time until she could fall asleep.

*****

****

Training has been going well. I haven't missed a day yet, and neither have Walker, Darien or Ryu. Already I have advanced my reflexes and my response times are getting better. I'm hitting harder and faster every day. I don't think I've been doing anything else. I leave for the Keep in the morning, come home in the evening after training, eat supper and then go straight to bed. I've quit going to school for now. Education can't help me in what I'm getting ready to do. Relena's been bringing me the homework from my classes, not that I'll get around to doing it. 

Ever since they were taken, Relena's been doing her part around the school community, spreading around the rumour that all five of the boys and Misty have been felled by a collective bout of the chicken pox that has become acute pneumonia around New Year's. We can't let anyone know that Misty and the boys are gone for the sake of their safety. Apparently Quatre caught the bug from some unnamed person in his physics class and then spread it around to the other boys, Duo being the one to have then given it to Misty. The story's a little thin, but the school's not about to ask and no one would want to visit a freak's house to enquire about one's health, so we're safe for the time being. Relena's actually been holding up well these past few weeks, collecting homework and giving it to others in the Keep to finish in what looks like Misty and the boys' handwriting, providing the dangerously curious with hastily made-up health reports, feeding Xiao and keeping Shinigami-kun occupied to keep him from going into bouts of hysterical crying. She was obviously devastated in the beginning, but now it's sort of fizzled out into purposeful numbness. Relena knows something has to be done and so she tries her best to get it finished. It seems that underneath that soft little exterior lies the heart of a true pragmatist. Get it all over with and cry later. Worrying accomplishes nothing, so it need not be done. 

I wish I was like that. 

*****

"Ryu, wake up." Rolling her eyes, Ria prodded the huge Japanese man dozing next to her. It was about eleven o'clock on a Saturday night and they were alone in his apartment, sitting on the couch. The lights were dimmed and in front of them lay the wreckage of a half-eaten dinner for two from the Chinese restaurant downstairs. Even now, the sound of muffled chatter and the clink of silverware on china filtered through the air ducts along with the scent of fried rice and spicy beef. It was the first time since the tournament's proclamation that they were alone, but instead of feeling the sense of warm comfort they both craved, the atmosphere was tinged with agitated stillness, which was made steadily worse as they tried to ignore it. 

Ryu snorted and moved away from her finger, but did not wake. Ria growled to herself and jabbed him with a chopstick. "Ryu!"

A blood-red eye slid lethargically open. "Mm?"

"Good morning to you too, Sunshine." Ria kissed him on the nose and slid a furtive hand up his shirt. "Tickle, tickle."

"You know I'm not ticklish."

Rolling her eyes, Ria picked up the container of lo mein. "You are such a dork." She held it out to him. "Want some?"

"I'm not a fan, thank you." The massive fighter extended his arms, snapping various stiffened joints and picked up his own chopsticks. "Pass the rice."

The couple ate in silence, listening to the wordless chatter of happier people going on below them mingle with the inner _skrinch _of crispy noodles being thoughtfully chewed. 

"Ryu?" The red-haired healer set down her container.

"Mm?"

A scared little girl look skipped fleetingly over her face for a scant moment. "I…you know the tournament?"

Ryu set his own dinner down. "Yes," he said carefully.

"D'you really think…" She bit her lip. "D'you really think that…." 

"Yes?" The word was not said unkindly as he slid a powerful arm around her waist and squeezed gently. "Don't tell me you think I'll lose."

"No! No, it's not that. I just…. What if Black Hood is lying?" A tear patted onto her cheek. "What if my sister is already…."

The rest of her sentence was swallowed into a sob.

"I haven't seen her in months, dammit! What if I never-"

"Shhh, don't say that." From under the table, Ryu's cat -a former stray he had picked up and christened Neko- began stalking up to the last sorry shreds of Peking duck. Angrily, Ryu kicked, scaring him away and continued. "Black Hood isn't stupid. They know they have what we want and they aren't about to just let it slip from their hands."

"But will she be the same?"

Gazing into her emerald eyes, Ryu realised with a leaden heart that he could not lie to her. But neither could he give her a straight answer. Of the two of them, he was the only one who actually knew first-hand the extensive levels of cruelty Black Hood was capable of. He held his girlfriend closer and pressed her head into his shoulder. 

"I suppose," he finally said, "that we'll have to find out in three weeks time."

*****

****

Trowa's clothes don't smell like him anymore.

*****

Darien's fingers glided effortlessly over the keys of the piano before him, coaxing out a particularly bad rendition of the _Fur Elise_. Sighing, he began again, his foot impatiently compressing the pedals. This time he managed to botch it on the first note. Finally he gave up and sat away from the keys, thoroughly defeated by the elusiveness of concentration. His mind simply refused to focus on anything as of late. The tournament was in two weeks and every thought he had in an effort to forget it doubled back and returned, leaving him back where he started. 

At least Dad was finding a way to keep his mind off of things tonight. Darien bit off a sigh as he heard the voice of Mackenzie Goodman exclaim like an over excited schoolgirl through the heating ducts over Ali's newest painting, a female nude. For the last few weeks Mackenzie –or Mackie, as he preferred to be called- was over almost every day, making dinner with Marrigan or learning how to paint from Ali. He helped Ria with her studies in Healing, watched Tama train with her battleaxe and debated with Zach about the finer points of medicine and philosophy until dawn, all without any mention of Misty or her friends whatsoever. Mackenzie was a teacher, a friend and, in a pinch, a shoulder to cry on. The man was totally perfect, and because of this, Darien hated him. It wasn't that the man wasn't genuine, it was that he was far _too_ genuine and that set the dark-haired man's hackles up. He kept reminding Darien of an old Keep saying that had been running through his mind lately: "_Fear the good man, for it is his blade that cuts the deepest." _

The only non-obsessively-friendly trait Mackie had was that he meticulously avoided Walker for the few moments between his returning home from training, the hasty swallowing of his supper and immediate departure to bed. His reasoning was that the Lord of Alaryan's Keep was probably too tired to want to talk. And then he would change the subject. Ever suspicious, Darien refused to believe him.

"I love your use of warm media here to accent the highlights in your subject's hair, Ali!" came the ecstatic squeal down the pipes. Ali's embarrassed answering rumble was too low to be heard. Snarling, Darien slammed the cover shut on the piano keys and stalked off to bed, cursing under his breath the little arrogant asshole that had invaded his family. 

*****

**I remember when I was small, my mother took me to the Ring for my debut. Aletha the Render, feared first officer, presents her daughter: a tender six years of age and about to enter her odyssey into Hell. When I left Black Hood years later, I swore nothing could force me into going back. Now here I am, pulling on my old self and revisiting the wretched shackles of my former existence. I still have nightmares of the Detroit base, the place of my birth. It was there I was brought howling into this world and it was there that I was silenced. I'm not the only one who fears the place. There are some survivors, pictures of stamina and power, who blubber at the name Black Hood and who wail like terrified children at the sound of my mother's name. **

So what will happen when we get there? Will we get a fair fight? I hardly think so. Black Hood isn't really renown for an impeccable set of morals. Perhaps we'll be led away and quietly disposed of. Perhaps we'll just be killed on the spot. Or maybe my mother's famous sense of humour will thrust its way through and we'll be served the captives –nicely browned- on silver platters. 

God, how I hate this. 

*****

****

"Did you ever wonder what it'd be like if I was human?" 

Amy sat bolt upright, startled by the abruptness of the question Walker had just posed. They sat together in her apartment, lounging on the couch, watching TV. The window was open a crack to admit a cool spring breeze, bearing a silent reminder that April was coming, and with it would come the tournament. There was but one week remaining. Amy shifted uncomfortably. She also knew it was the month of Misty's birthday. The missing girl was going to be eighteen this year. 

"Well?"

Amy bit her lip. Questions about Black Hood were always picky territory between them. "You _are _human, Walker." An offending cushion was tossed on the floor as she leaned over and cuddled into his side. 

Walker snorted. "Barely." Despite his irritation, he still wrapped a sturdy arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. Amy noticed that his grip was more powerful than it normally felt to her. The training was obviously working. She snuggled further into the crook of his arm. "Just think of it. If I was just some baby born into the world without tubes or drugs or wings or claws or a tail or… or anything, none of this would be happening."

Amy bit her lip. She hated it when Walker allowed himself to be dragged under by guilt. It was like he thought every bad thing that ever happened to the whole of mankind was his fault somehow. "You're Black Hood's strongest opposition. Without you as you are to curb their actions, they would have gotten so much further."

"Without me as I am hundreds of innocent people would not have died," Walker said flatly, referring to the Ring event known as the "Cattle Kill", where normal humans were pulled off the street and hurled into the spotlight to defend themselves against Black Hood fighters. To date it was still going on and not one human hostage had ever survived.

Amy wriggled out from under his arm and glared at him. So this was how it was going to be. She narrowed her eyes. "Without you as you are dozens of captives would not have been freed. Kari would have ended up a bloodthirsty, hedonistic monster just like her mother and Ryu would have become either a lab experiment or another of Black Hood's male prostitutes after being retired from the Ring. Without you as you are the Keep would not have the strongest mage known to their history. Without you as you are you wouldn't have your family. Without you as you are the Bond would have no Keeper." Fully aware that she was shouting now, Amy sucked in a sharp breath and tried to control her voice. "And without you as you are I would be sitting here alone instead of next to the most perfect man in the world."

Walker blinked in surprise, sitting silently as the laugh track on the TV mocked how thoroughly he had just been shot down. He looked up at her. "You play dirty, Amy." 

She grinned at him, inwardly relieved that she had managed to head off yet another emotional disaster. "I know."

Stretching, Walker got up and turned off the TV before heading off into the kitchen for a snack. He returned with a box of wheat thins and a half-full jar of salsa he'd excavated from the fridge and sat heavily down on the floor of the living room. "Amy?" 

"Mmm?" She sat next to him and opened the jar of salsa.

"Are you scared? About the tournament, I mean."

Amy swallowed her bite of wheat thin and wiped her hands absently on her knees. "I don't know," she admitted. "Are you?"

"I don't know either." Walker played with a couple of crackers, arranging them into a tiny fort before tipping the whole fragile structure over. "I don't know how I should feel about this. All of me wants Misty and the boys back –I mean, that's why I'm doing this. But another part of me wants to get back into the Ring." He put his head in his hands. "Another part of me just wants to fight." 

Slender arms found their way around broad, shaking shoulders and squeezed. "You can't blame yourself, Walker. You were bred to fight."

"No I wasn't, Amy!" Walker suddenly stood up, knocking her away. "Darien and I were born to be a breeding pair! The only reason we fought in the first place was because I wasn't born female! You know that!"

"But then you were altered to be Fighters," Amy pointed out, still lying on the floor where Walker's sudden outburst had left her. "And it's hasn't left you yet, that's all."

"Bullshit," spat Walker. "Haven't you heard the Federation for Human Purity? 'Once a freak, always a freak.' There's no use in trying to hide it. I'm a bloodthirsty monster and no amount of civilization will ever change that."

"Since when did you ever take anything they ever said seriously?!" Amy shouted, getting to her feet. 

"Since it became obvious that they're right!" Walker shouted back. From below them, a groggy downstairs neighbour began pounding on his ceiling with a handy broomstick. 

Amy darted to him and clung to his waist. "Please, Walker, don't say things like this."

"If it wasn't for me, none of this shit would be going on."

"Walker…" Amy trailed off as her boyfriend firmly unwound her arms from around him and stepped away. 

"Forget it." The Lord of Alaryan's Keep grabbed his keys from the table by the door and shrugged on his jacket. "I'll see you later." And with that, he left, slamming the door behind himself.

Dejected, Amy began to pick up the mess of crushed wheat thins and spilled salsa. Through the open window she could hear the faint percussion of a car door slamming and the furious squeal of Walker's car screeching from the parking lot below. Eventually she sat down, slowly twisting her promise ring around and around her finger while salty tears ran unbidden down her face. 

__

Dear God, why did you have to choose us? 

*****

****

Tomorrow we leave for the tournament. The tournament is in a sports complex in Vancouver two days from now. Others have been invited to offset the strangeness of only ex-freaks attending. Those at the Keep will see it all live by dreamdrop. I can now do nothing but wait and hope and pray.

Black Hood has decided what it wants if we lose. The proclamation came via Walker's email this morning. If we win, then we get all of the hostages, no strings attached. If we lose, then Black Hood and my mother get back what they lost four years ago. If they win, then I will be their prize to be brought back to the Detroit base. I am not to be rescued, nor am I to be remembered. I will simply disappear from my family's life. Mother and Father don't know of it yet. I'll not say anything about it until just before the tournament. If it means that everyone could be brought back home, then it is a risk I am more than willing to take.

Walker, Darien, Ryu and I will fight. Mira and the four wizards will be there as representatives. We leave in three hours. 

My friends, my love, will I ever see you again? 

*****

__

*Sniffle* So sad….

Anyway, the next chapter may take a while to post, cuz it take place at the tournament and I'm not overly comfortable with fight scenes, so it'll take some time to flesh out. If you've got any ideas or advice, do drop me a line! I'm still at phoenixdagger@hotmail.com , minna-san!

Ja ne!

-LPD *//.^*


	32. O, salutaris hostia

__

Daaaamn! It's been forever, hasn't it, minna-san? In the last several months (yes, it's been several months. I suck, I know) I've gone to prom, gone to the AnimeNorth anime con (I even had a costume as a Ruroni Kenshin crowd extra! Seriously!), got into university, studied my ass off, passed with honours, went to California, came back, went to university and am now sitting in my dorm wondering why the hell i let this story get left on the shelf, not that that's an excuse for leaving you guys hanging (what little of you may still be left, anyway). I also handed in Alaryan's Keep as a Writer's Craft assignment. Printed out, it was 182 pages and I got a 92% on it! Yaay! Anyhoo, I should be updating more, and if I should grow lax, don't hesitate to mail me and tell me so! (But be gentle. Not only am I a human being, I'm now a human being with an ungodly amount of homework_. Time is hard to come by sometimes) Enjoy! –Lady Phoenixdagger *//.^*_

*****

Mira could feel her hands ball themselves into fists of rage as she and the wizards watched spectators file into their seats with what looked to be bovine disinterest on the giant screen above the Ring. A few waved and cheered as they came on, but mainly they did not even bother to look up, too busy with trying to find their place in the crowd. From their box seat, she could see the odd participant wandering about the Ring, trying to find his or her place for the opening ceremonies. The dark-haired telekinetic allowed herself a sardonic smile. Her friends down below were probably not having such a problem. The whole place had been converted into an exact replica of the Ring back on Black Hood property, familiar turf for the survivors right down to the almost invisible microphones to pick up and amplify every crunch and scream. All it needed was a warm, sticky, scarlet christening and the place would be just like home. 

Mira bit her lip. _Soon it will begin. All too soon._

Beside her, Talon absently played with the metal collar the Black Hood officials had fastened around his neck and the necks of the other wizards as well as Mira. Apparently they found it simply would not do for them to use magic and cheat to help their side win. Slender hands found their own collar as Mira fingered the clasp that would not open, noting that while Black Hood knew she and the wizards would not cheat,_ they _had no way of knowing whether or not Black Hood would cheat _them_. 

"How much longer must we wait?" Talon was now tugging at his collar, anxiety tingeing his voice. "The longer they take to start this thing, the longer it'll take for us to win!" Despite his words, his voice was wooden with only the faintest wisps of his true despair passing through. As soon as the collars had been put in place any power Mira and the wizards might have had was gone, leaving them naked in the face of all-too-possible treachery, and painfully aware of it. 

Tentatively Mira reached out with her mind –a trick she had learned from Belle- and brushed against Talon's, almost laughing out loud in bitter glee at what she found. Even under his despair, a scrap of cockiness still stubbornly nested, stroked by a desperate sense of pride. How sure he was, deep, deep in the crevasses of his mind! Such hubris was almost sad to witness. There was no surety in a Black Hood death match. Mira bit her lip, almost feeling Quatre's breath in her ear, murmuring to her not to be such a pessimist. It was slow torture, waiting to see him and the others, longing to free the innocents caught in the middle, but not wanting to see what horrors Black Hood had done to them. Wanting to see them alive again, but knowing the chances were slim to none. Black Hood was too careful to allow themselves to be the victims of fair chance. Alone in their box seat, tugging collars and wrestling errant imaginations, Mira and the wizards sat, trying to convince themselves that the captives weren't doomed. 

"LADEEEEEEZ AND GENTLEMEN!" The sound system suddenly boomed, sending wave after wave of screaming feedback into the herds of people. As one body, the wizards stiffened. It was to begin. 

There came a slight tap-tapping as a questioning finger rapped the mic. Once satisfied that the sound system had been set to right, the announcer went on: 

"WELCOME TO THE BEST-OF-THE-BEST TOURNAMENT OF CHAMPIONS, SPONSORED BY THE GOOD PEOPLE AT BLACK HOOD!" 

Not caring about the plush carpet below her feet, Mira spat, then watched it soak in. _Good people_. The irony of it was simply disgusting. In the Ring below, the participants were parading in front of the masses, twenty fighters in all to be pitted against Black Hood's finest. Of them, only four truly knew what would befall them.Beside him, Gil sat in terrified silence, his fear for his children washing over Mira's consciousness in a shocking wave. Below, a Black Hood official, a deceptively normal-looking man, was giving a speech that no one in the private box even attempted to listen to. The gentle old wizard had just been handed the news that if their four lost, not only would he lose his niece and his wards, his daughter would be sacrificed as well. For him the fight would be excruciatingly hard to bear. To the right of Gil and next to Nat, Zach sat, one hand worriedly clenched around an ancient-looking rosary, the other knotting his good robe, his lips busily murmuring soothing prayers.

__

O, salutaris hostia

Quae caeli pandis ostium

Bella premunt hostila

Da robur, fer auxilium. 

Mira's outer calm betrayed her then and she broke down into tears as the contestants below milled back out of the Ring to ready themselves for the first fight. Brokenly, she spoke the helpless pleas to God along with the elderly man, praying that He would intercede, that victory would find them that day:

__

O, Saviour, saving victim

Who opens the gate of Heaven

Our enemies besiege us

Give us strength, bring us aid.

*****

Under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the Ring's underchamber, Ryu sat moodily re-taping his knuckles, waiting patiently for his next fight. The room was chilly and he could feel his muscles begin to tighten as they cooled down. There were others in the chamber, fighters who had time still to waste before they had to go up. There was less and less of them after each fight, the losers either being sent home in disgrace or sent home in ambulances. No body bags as of yet, but the tournament was still young. What was once a herd of twenty was now a mere cluster of eight, including the Alaryan's Keep fighters. Even as the normal humans stood, clustered around the radio, listening to the current fight with what looked to be nonchalance, Ryu could almost taste their awkwardness as they tried not to let their animal apprehension show. Presently Walker was going up against a Fighter by the name of Aruviel. Ryu knew him well, a foolish engineered semi-organic Fighter whose technique was to fight hard, fast and low to the ground. He was foolish that way, allowing his back to be completely unguarded as he lunged at legs and ankles. Even now Ryu could see him cutting furiously away at Walker's feet, tiring himself out, and ultimately allowing Walker to pick him off. Still, it was only the middle of the tournament. Black Hood was probably saving their best treachery for last.

A shared cry rose up from around the radio when the match ended in Walker's favour, as Ryu knew it would. He looked up from his knuckles to glance at Darien, who lounged in a chair with a magazine open in his lap while his fingers played with the collar around his throat, and Kari, who was sitting motionlessly at his feet. The elder Broman twin cocked his head and glared at a pair of contestants who were trading money. 

__

A bet. Ryu growled._ The idiots have no idea what's really at stake here. _

The public address system in the room crackled then, announcing the next fight between another Black Hood fighter and a normal human contestant. Nervously trying not to look at anyone else in the room, he trooped out just as Walker sauntered in, a gauze pad over one eye to soak up his blood as the skin healed swiftly over. Even in light of his recent triumph he looked agitated. The fluorescent light reflected off the collar around his neck as he sat heavily down on the couch next to Ryu and crumpled the pad in his hands. Darien and Kari sat casually by them as the rest of the room's inhabitants slowly moved away.

The Lord of Alaryan's Keep shot a black look around the room. "We're being mocked here," he said shortly. There came a sharp tearing sound as his hands rent the gauze pad without him realising. "There are only weaklings to be challenged here." He shot another look at an overly-muscular girl who stared openly at him, making her blush and turn away. "The fights are too easy. We look like barbarians, kicking the shit out of children, or it seems so, the way these green Fighters go at it. The crowd will pick up on it soon."

"I don't like it either." Darien shifted uneasily on the floor. "There's no opposition. I've won my last three in less than five minutes each."

__

They want us to get comfortable, Kari signed quickly, her speechdrop having been confiscated upon their arrival. _They have the prisoners and will do anything to keep us from getting them._ Her hands became urgent as she flicked out the words. _They'll pull out the big guns soon._

"Yeah."

Walker tossed the mangled gauze wad into the air, looking surprised as it came back down. Sub-space pockets were taken away as well with the introduction of the collars. Remembering this, Walker shrugged and stuffed the wad into the hip pocket of his training gi, not daring to trust Black Hood with a discarded sample of his blood. "We'll be okay," he decided firmly. "Whatever Black Hood throws at us, we can handle it."

Nearby the radio spat out that the match was over, sealed with a KO that sent sirens blaring over the announcer's excited voice. The preliminaries were over with. The finals were to begin.

*****

__

More to come, folks!

LPD *//.^*


	33. Quae caeli pandis ostium

__

Me again! At last I am free of the drudgery of high school. NExt up, the drudgery of university. Graduation was a blast! Would you believe that one of our valedictorians (we had 2) went through the entire grad sans pants? He took them off in the library before the ceremony next to the political science section. Ja ne! --Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^* 

*****

__

Once we were feared. 

Darien's fist blocked off a leg as it scythed towards his face. Almost nonchalantly, he pushed it away, shoving the other Fighter off balance and sending him spiralling to the ground. Around them the crowd screamed and roared in sick glee as Darien's opponent, a lithe, light man with shocking green eyes, sprung to his feet. Darien sighed and got into an easy defensive stance, knowing the fight would be over far before the five-minute time limit was up. Of all the fighters that had entered, only the Alayran's Keep fighters were still in the running. They now had only four fights left until the tournament's final decision was made and by the look of it, it would not be difficult.

__

Now we are mocked with pathetic challengers. 

A massive wave of feedback from the speaker system above their heads caused Darien and his opponent to pause. There came the sound of a man clearing his throat too close to the mic. "LAADIEEEEEZ AND GENTLEMEN, THERE HAS BEEN A CHANGE IN OPPONENTS!"

Darien blinked. _A change? In the middle of a match?_

Darien's opponent seemed equally confused, but still he backed off, being smart enough to know that Black Hood still watched his every move. The black haired man didn't move from his defensive pose, even as his opponent left the Ring through the huge vaulted tunnel. 

A deafening scream tore through the relative quiet in the Ring, causing Darien's muscles to snap taut. Neither man nor animal awaited him past the mouth of the tunnel. Around him the crowd began to murmur in alarm. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. 

__

You wanted a Ring match, Darien noted, almost self-satisfied with this sudden change. _Welcome to the real thing._

Another scream met the last, this one shrill and scared and frantic. From the doorway, a bloody Fighter's hand hit the ground and bounced, slapping wetly onto Darien's foot. 

Eyes like the mouth of Hell blazed at Darien as his new opponent came into view. The crowd grew silent a moment before bursting into screams and shrieks as the behemoth let itself be revealed by the artificial light. It was once a man, perhaps, but now it stood before the crowds as a ten-foot monster, clawed and fanged and hairless, a mockery of what was once merely human. The thing was totally nude, its slimy grey flanks gleaming wetly in the light of the false Ring. Its carmine eyes were bulbous and bore no pupils but still it gazed at Darien with the primal understanding of a hunter. Darien felt a bitter smile slide easily to his face as he "heard" Walker scream curses through their mental bond. 

It looked like Black Hood was finally putting out the big guns.

"LADIEEEEZ AND GENTLEMEN, INTRODUCING… THE BLACK HEAVEN PROJECT!" The announcer seemed pleased to hear the ringing murmurs in the crowd as the Black Hood freak regarded them, still chewing one of the choicer portions of the previous fighter. Behind it, a cleaning crew was already mopping up the mess in the tunnel under a shroud of dim light.

Darien grinned fully this time as his opponent made its way to the centre of the Ring. 

__

Let the games begin. 

*****

Back up in the box seats, Mira and the wizards were staring in shock at the behemoth as it advanced on the comparatively tiny man. The clicking of Zach's rosary beads quickened with each lumbering pace while beside him, desperate prayers were mumbled in hurried Hebrew. 

*****

"FIRRST BLOOD TO THE BLACK HEAVEN PROJECT!" 

Darien clamped a hand over the gash lacing his bicep and backed off, waiting for it to heal over. The Black Heaven Project followed, its taste for blood now piqued, and lunged, using its massive weight to deal a crushing blow. 

The crowd roared as Darien leapt forward, towards his foe, and raced up the monster's slimy back. Metal claws flashed quicksilver in the light as Darien allowed himself one backwards slash before dismounting with a graceful spin. The monster howled and spun, flinging streamers of blood around the arena. Darien slashed again, this time catching the monster's chest as it came around and again as it turned to face him.

"AND IT LOOKS LIKE DARIEN BROMAN'S GOTTEN IN A GOOD, SOLID FIRST BLOOD FOR HIMSELF!"

_Damn straight. _

The Black Heaven Project's eyes were almost phosphorescent with rage now, while Darien skittered around the Ring, laughing. Sweat stung his eyes but his muscles cried for the morbid joy of coming in for the kill. The roar of the crowd was intoxicating, a mix of jeers and laughter and absolute horror as Darien skipped in and out, slashing tiny bit after tiny bit out the monster's face and chest. 

Another more effective lunge left Darien in a poor position, down on one knee, his palm against a claw-slash scoured into his side. The Black Heaven Project snarled in triumph and lunged, catlike, into the air. 

Caught in a desperate situation, Darien's mind reverted to his original Black Hood training. Bracing himself, he stabbed his fully-clawed free hand into the air, just as the Black Heaven Project was coming down.

*****

"What in the _Hell_ was that?!" Talon was on his feet, his face pressed against the glass of the box seat. Mira and the other wizards were crowded against the glass as well, watching open-mouthed as the corpse of the Black Heaven Project was passionlessly gathered up and swiftly borne away. The stands were emptying as people made mad dashes for the parking lot, or perhaps the washrooms to void their stomachs of the oily treats that were previously being sold at the door.

Mira put her back to the glass and leaned heavily against it. "One of Darien's signature moves. Normally it's accompanied by a forward slash to completely disembowel the victim, but I guess he's not feeling fancy today."

"Oh, God." Zach sat heavily down, his mind still chewing the idea of his grandson being such a skilled killer.

Mira sat next to him. "What can I say?" The telepath smiled bitterly at him. "Black Hood always makes sure freaks can get the job done." 

*****

__

Ja ne! --Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^* 


	34. Bella premunt hostila

*****

Walker bit off a curse as his blood slapped the walls of the false Ring and clamped his hand over the gouge in his shoulder. Before him, the Shii-ne, a female bat-human hybrid licked his blood from her fangs, relishing the taint of the dark poison within. The young mage grimaced as the tingling of knitting flesh crept like healing spiders' legs over his torn shoulder. Black Hood was making their Fighters hardier these days. Normally his blood would have eaten through her throat and killed her within thirty seconds.

__

So be it. Let them see the monster I am if it'll win me the day. 

Walker let his fangs lengthen, felt the tightening of poison glands filling in his face. His back muscles hardened as leathery wings and his tail pushed out and his feet changed to adjust to the added weight. He let his head loll a moment to loosen the muscles in his neck and to touch the warm metal of the collar there with his chin for luck. Whatever he did today would be because of pure cunning and physical strength and nothing more. Amidst the horror-stuck screams of the crowd, the hybrid hunkered down, her eyes like oversized jet pearls narrowing with glee at the prospect of an added challenge. 

Warily Walker and the Shii-ne circled each other, eyes locking as predator hungrily surveyed potential prey on both sides. Walker surveyed her as they circled, his eyes flicking over her perfect body, looking for a sign of weakness. The body before him was crafted of hard muscle and soft curves covered in coarse brown hair and the occasional leather strap to display what little modesty Black Hood had allotted her. Folded slightly against the Shii-ne's flanks were delicate flaps of skin that ran from the entire length of her arm down to connect at her hips. Of the entire hybrid, the head was the most horrific part. More bat than human, it bore bulging black eyes, a piggish snout and huge translucent ears. As he watched her circle, Walker could pick the veins of the Shii-ne's ears out, for they stood out in the light. He watched them shudder as the blood pulsed rhythmically through them, then let his eye drop to her throat where a thick vein throbbed in time. 

There. He would set his target there. 

The very thought of hot blood gushing freely past his fangs made Walker sick with longing and revulsion. He waited for the Shii-ne to make the first move. 

What little of the crowd that was left screamed in triumph and horror as the bat-human hybrid snapped into action, thrusting herself forward, hands thrust out to catch around Walker's throat. Hissing, Walker side-stepped her and threw himself forward as well, clamping his fangs around her throat and squeezing hard. The hybrid retched and fought, trying to pull away. Walker threw his arms around her, pinning her hands against his chest and stopping her struggles. The roar of the crowd was nothing in comparison to the roar of blood against his jaws. Grimly he allowed the poison to filter from his fangs into the desperately unyielding flesh, feeling it go slack with numbness as the poison hit home. Against him, the Shii-ne's hands were balled into fists pressing solidly into his breastbone. 

At the abrupt flash of pain, Walker's head came up, his retracting fangs dragging deep furrows into the side of his opponent's neck as it did. The Shii-ne grinned viciously at him and, as he heard the silken rasp of foot long claws fully entering his flesh, the Lord of Alaryan's Keep suddenly realised his mistake. 

*****

Back in the box seat, the wizards and Mira watched in silence as the Shii-ne calmly left the Ring. Behind her, paramedics and a cleanup crew raced to where Walker lay, intent on moving him to a less inconvenient spot. They watched as Walker was hoisted up and placed on a stretcher and was spirited away. Around them the most of the spectators that were left, perhaps no more than a third of the original number, bellowed in triumph while only a few managed to murmur in worried protest. The announcer laughed, gaily calling the score as one to one. Up in their box seat the five watched in silence until, at last, one by one they began to weep. 

*****


	35. Da robur, fer auxilium

*****

__

They call him the Prowler.

Bloody red eyes slitted, Ryu surveyed his opponent. Unlike the other "treats" Black Hood had thrown at them, this one looked completely human, which seemed to set the agitated audience somewhat at ease. He wore basic punk garb, from the all but decimated clothing to the myriad of chains and patches to the hair bleached shocking blond. Only the pair of brass knuckles seemed strange on him. Although his clothing looked threatening, the Prowler was a humanoid and this was enough to send a rush of relieved sighs throughout the crowd. Ryu knew better. The Prowler was a veteran fighter, much older than he looked and much, much stronger. The Japanese man girded himself and thought of Walker's blood covering the floor of the Ring. Black Hood was allowing its freaks to get smart. He would have to be careful with this one.

"Ready to die, mate?" The Prowler's voice was cocky and sharp with a heavy English accent that the microphones around the Ring carried from one end of the sports complex to the other. He licked his front teeth and grinned openly.

"Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing," Ryu said and the two lunged. 

The crowd screamed and howled in bloodthirsty encouragement as the two fought, throwing punches and kicks too fast for the naked eye to catch. Fists and feet landed and were pulled away before the solid _thwack _of their alighting could even be heard by the crowd. 

Snarling, Ryu leapt and grabbed the Prowler by his shoulders, intending to flip back and smash the cocky Englishman head first into the ground, snapping his neck. Instead the Prowler punched out as Ryu was still in the air, slamming a brass-knuckled fist into the larger man's groin. Gasping, the Japanese man lost his grip and allowed himself to be hurled headfirst into the cement wall of the Ring with a resounding _crunch_. 

Casually, the Prowler sauntered to where Ryu lay, staring stupidly, still in a daze, and prodded him with the toe of his boot. "Enjoying yourself, mate?" he asked cheerfully.

Bloody red eyes gazed up at him without an answer.

"Come on," the Prowler pouted. "No fair just lying there! Get up and then I'll get back to killing you. Just listen to 'em out there. The crowd'll love it. All you have to do is be a good boy and _die_. Is that too much to ask for?"

Ryu looked muzzily up then, his eyes barely registering what stood in front of him. He spat a wad of blood. "You're insane."

Laughing, the Prowler grabbed him by the hair and hauled him to his feet. "Maybe. But that's half the fun, innit?" The laughter grew to cackling as Ryu was held out at arm's length and flung across the Ring. 

*****

"What the _Hell_ is he doing?" Nat's voice was shrill.

Gil swallowed thickly. The old man's face was deathly white as he watched Ryu being thrown around the Ring. "Showboating." 

Snarling silently, Mira watched as the white-haired punk grabbed Ryu by the wrist and stomped hard on his elbow, snapping it sharply. _Bastard!_ Around her neck, the metal collar heated up as her telekinesis warred against the confines of its circular prison. _If he wins, I swear to God I'll kill him myself._

Moaning, Talon sat heavily down and put his head in his hands. "We're going to lose, aren't we?"

"Idiot!" Talon looked up to Zach, who stood over him, skewering the younger man with his eyes. "We're still in the running! Even if Ryu loses, Kari can still tie it up."

The youngest wizard rounded on his older brother. "And then what, Zach? Do we send out Darien and hope he's already perfectly rested or do we hand over Walker and hope his blood will poison the next fighter to death?" 

Mira bit back a shriek as Zach struck him.

"Don't _ever_ say that again," he growled. "_Ever._"

"And if I do?"

"Just remember I outrank you, _brother_."

"Is that a threat?"

"What do you think?"

Talon suddenly whipped his hands from his sleeves, balling them into fists. "Have at you, then!"

Growling, Zach flipped a short ornamental dagger from his belt. "So be it."

Nat stepped between them, and tiredly put a hand on either man's shoulder. "Children, children,_ please _don't make me separate you."

"Can I help it if he's too damned _stubborn _to see we've lost?"

"Me? What about _you_? _You're_ too bloody pessimistic!" 

Nat rolled his eyes and spun the warring brothers around to face the glass. "You're both morons. Acting like babies! Besides, Ryu just won."

Immediately the two broke free to look down at giant screen above the Ring. There, the body of a punk Englishman was being cleared from the Ring while Ryu apathetically chewed bits of esophagus out from under his fingernails. 

*****


	36. Winners?

*****

__

**How small the Ring seems now.**

Kari plucked restlessly at her speechdrop -which had been given to her for some reason- waiting for the announcer to call her up. She felt no fear. Fear was useless here unless one was willing to be torn to shreds. Everything inside her was boiled away into a mass of determination and hate. Black Hood could throw what they wished at her. She would not lose. 

"WASN'T THAT A HUMDINGER OF A MATCH, FOLKS?" the announcer shouted exuberantly. The crowd roared, although not nearly as loudly as before. Even now, people were coming to their senses and leaving the sports complex. Only a fourth of the original audience remained, if only out of morbid curiosity. The announcer still shouted on, unaware that his listening audience was steadily diminishing. "AND NOW FOR THE LAST TWO COMPETETORS! THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH WILL RECEIVE THE PRIZE OF _ONE BILLION DOLLARS_!" The announcer paused a moment for dramatic emphasis. "THE LOSER WILL WALK AWAY WITH _NOTHING_!"

In the tunnel leading to the Ring, Kari impatiently beat her fist against the concrete block wall, the faces of those who were now just barely out of reach racing through her brain. **Just get _on_ with it, damn you!**

"AS THE CHALLENGER, BLACK HOOD PRESENTS KARI ICHARAAA!"

Kari jogged into the Ring, pleasantly surprised that the roars of the crowd weren't all comprised of hatred.Grinning widely, she waved cheerily at the box seat where Mira and the wizards sat, imagining the horrified looks they were probably giving her. The blank-eyed girl cracked her neck and shook her limbs out, readying herself. Despite her confident manner, the first seeds of apprehension were beginning to sprout in her stomach. 

****

Stay calm, Kari, and victory will find you, she reminded herself.

"AND NOW FOLKS, PUT YOU HANDS TOGETHER FOR THE PRIDE AND JOY OF TODAY'S MATCH!"

Kari craned her neck to see into the tunnel opposite to her, trying to snatch a glimpse of her opponent's facial structure or body type so she could tell who it was. It was a woman, but very little else could be seen from such a distance.

"BLACK HOOD IS PROUD TO PRESENT…"

The figure stepped forth. Kari felt her heart stall and her stomach drop. She took an involuntary step back as the figure came forward.

**No…. Not her. Please, not her….**

"…THE ONE AND ONLY…"

****

Please, no….

"ALETHA THE RENDER!"

*****

****

As the blond woman crossed the Ring, Mira's horrified scream shattered the silence in the box seat. Even Aletha's walk was dangerous, telling of screaming bloodlust and bloody violence in every step. She was of average height and her tightly bound hair was blond, like Kari, but her eyes were deep violet while her daughter's had once been blue. 

"My_ God_." Nat sounded like he was about to be sick. "Is she wearing-?"

Silently the telekinetic nodded. Aletha's cannibalistic taste in clothing material was legendary. Even from where she sat, Mira could imagine her picking out those with acceptable tattoos to become part of her wardrobe. Today she wore the scant… leather… costume in deepest black.

A deep, shuddering sigh came from Gil. By the look of it, he was trying to keep from crying. "Kari's going to die, isn't she?"

Mira watched as Zach pulled out his rosary again before replying. "Perhaps."

*****

Aletha the Render smiled supinely at her lost daughter as she approached. The world seemed to go silent, save for the clicking of her steel-shod boots against the cement floor. A whip was coiled around her wrist. Kari knew it well, remembering time after time it had bitten into her back and flanks. The Render stopped a scant six feet away, still giving her that oily snake's smile.

"Well met, daughter," she said. The words seemed to slither over each other as they were said. 

Kari glared at her and realised why she had been given back her speechdrop. **I was never your daughter.**

Violet eyes slitted in anger. "I own you, girl! I bore you! You're mine!"

****

Go to Hell, bitch.

"READYYYYY…._BEGIN!_"

The whip snapped out, slashing a bloody line into Kari's chest before she could even react. Gasping, she sprang out of range. Aletha laughed and rounded on her. 

"Of course!" She sounded delighted as around them the crowd began to scream encouragement for both sides. "I forgot how scared you are of being hit!"

****

Shut up and fight, old woman.

Violet eyes lit up. "If you insist."

Fists smashed into bone, knees pounded into flesh and Kari found herself on the floor of the Ring, struggling to refill her lungs and get beck to her feet. Her opponent sauntered over and crouched comfortably on her back, listening hungrily to the roars of the crowd. 

"What's wrong, girl?" The Render's voice singsonged. "Too hard for you?"

****

Never. 

A fist smashed between Kari's shoulder blades, making her jerk in agony. "Then hit me." The fist smashed down again. "Hit me, girl. Hit me! If you're so set on winning quit being a pussy and _hit me!_" Again and again Aletha's fist smashed down and again and again Kari was powerless to get up and stop her.

Finally Aletha tired of her brutal game and hauled her lost daughter to her feet by the hair. Without warning, she backed off. 

Kari merely stood there, vainly trying to understand what was happening.

"Well, are you going to fight?" Aletha complained like a child whose favourite toy of moment refused to work. She stepped closer, forcing Kari onto her heels, and clamped an iron hand around her neck. "All right then. All the more fun for me." 

The girl struggled as she was lifted from the ground and flung into a nearby wall. The cement around her shattered as she struck it, leaving a deep impression behind as she landed in a heap on the ground.

Aletha glided up to her, her laughter all but drowned out by the crowd. "Get up, girl. We aren't finished here yet."

Spitting blood, Kari stumbled to her feet. **Bring it on.**

Again she was flung into the wall, slamming another crater in to show her passage.

"You know you can't win." Flipping her hair out of her eyes, Aletha prodded her daughter with the toe of her boot. "It reminds me of when you lost your beauty. You tried again and again to get up and it just earned you another stripe. Just give up here. Let yourself lose."

****

No. Kari scrubbed at the blood flowing from her nose with the back of her hand. **My friends…. And all the hostages…. I can't stop.**

"How do you even know they're even alive?" 

****

I….

"Maybe they're all dead. Burned away. Or fed to the rookie fighters, perhaps. Or just allowed to rot. It makes no difference, really." Sniffing, the cruel woman sat comfortably down. "Those boys of your were great fun. It took a lot to break them. The girl was another thing. She cried after her first night as a Wife." She smiled. "I didn't bother playing with the hostages. They weren't nearly as entertaining."

**No!**

"_Yes_."

**I…. **Kari hung her head, utterly defeated.** I… I give up.**

The crowd shouted and called as she again got to her feet. Aletha grinned, watching with glee as the bloodied girl staggered to kneel at the feet of her better. Sighing, she dropped to her knees. 

"That's right. Fall to your knees. Beg me for forgiveness."

Kari looked up. **M-mother?**

"What?"

****

You always were too gullible.

Aletha's head snapped back as Kari shot to her feet, slamming her head into the older woman's jaw. Swiftly Kari grabbed either side of her mother's head and pulled herself up into a handstand position. 

****

See you in Hell.

With a quick twist, Kari jerked herself around, bringing around as well the head of Aletha the Render. With the help of the microphones planted around the Ring, a sickening _crack_ echoed around the complex_._

*****

__

We won. Oh my lord, we won!

Stupefied silence reigned in the box seat as Mira and the wizards stared in shock at the image on the giant screen over the Ring. Kari was calmly walking away from the body of her biological mother, its torso facing upwards, its head facing down.

"We…" Zach swallowed. "I think we won."

"We did." Although he was still somewhat dazed, Talon's face began to break into a smile. "We won!"

Next to him, Nat began to laugh, throwing his arms around himself and rocking in utter relief. "Thank God, it's finally over!"

Near the window, Gil had his hand over his face, sobbing with joy like a weary child. "My children! I can finally see my children again!"

"Misty will finally come home!" Tears of relief ran down the tiny channels of wrinkles in Zach's face.

"It's finally over!" 

"We can all go home!"

"No," Mira interrupted softly. The wizards stopped their celebrating to stare at her. "It's not over until we have the hostages and are far away from here."

The wizards sat down. 

"Now what do we do?" said Nat at length. The crowds were slowly filtering out, now that the action was all over. A few remained, however, waiting for the awarding of the billion dollars that would never come. Below, Walker, Darien, Ryu and Kari were standing in the tunnel, waiting to see the first sign of the captured innocents. 

A man's even laughter cut through the public address system, causing the five to look up sharply. There on the giant screen was a man in front of the Black Hood logo. 

"Hello, all," he said, his voice creamy and smooth, like a balm to the soul. He was nondescript. His eyes were light grey, his skin was of an average shade and his hair was what could only be called hair-coloured. Even his suit was unremarkable, a single-breasted jacket with a slim, dull black tie to break the monotony of his shirt. But his voice…. "I trust you all had a lovely time? Of course you did." 

Confused, a few of the remaining spectators –there was probably not more than twenty of them left now- began to murmur amongst each other. Walker, Darien, Ryu and Kari rushed to the centre of the Ring, which added to the murmuring.

Smooth-voice ignored them. "Still, we at Black Hood have a small confession to make."

"Say it, Meeghan!" The microphones in the Ring were still on and picked up Darien spitting on the ground by his feet quite nicely.

"Darren Meeghan," Mira whispered to the others. "He's a higher-up in Black Hood and the only one of Black Hood who's actually been formally identified."

"And he's never been punished?"

"No." Mira looked back at Gil. "He's allowed to be in the spotlight because he's too good to get caught."

The smooth-voiced man went on. "You see, although it was certainly a lovely gesture for you four to come all this way-" His words were cut off by a slew of automatic gunfire and screams off camera, "-the hostages are no more. We're also keeping those children you seem to be so fond of." 

"BASTARD!" Ryu screamed.

Up in the box seats, Gil began to cry anew.

****

Why!

Satan himself seemed to smile as Darren Meeghan went on. "We wish to wage war upon you, of course. We want our freaks back, we want our isotubes back and we want you to work under us. It's quite simple, really." He moved closer to the camera. "We've been watching you. These five boys are really quite special to you, aren't they? There's something about them that makes them valuable to you. And we know you'd do _anything _for the safe return of the youngest Broman sister. So you see, we have you right where we want you."

Talon laughed bitterly. "They have no idea there are people left. There are at least twenty witnesses out there."

"But will they talk?" The dark-haired telekinetic bit her lip, looking out at the petrified audience below. "Or will they decide to take the safe route and keep silent?"

"You forget," Zach broke in, a wide, evil grin on his face. "The whole thing is being broadcast by dreamdrop back at the Keep. Hundreds of people are seeing this right now!" 

"I see you don't feel like answering, _Lord_ Broman." Meeghan laughed creamily. "Do you see? You've lost! You're cut off from the law, your Keep, your magic. You're powerless until we take the collars off and we won't do it until you submit."

Walker stepped forward. "You have one hour."

Amused, Meeghan smiled at him like a benevolent teacher taking pity on the stupidest child in the class. "Until?"

"Until I find you and get them myself."

The laughter from the screen was deafening. "And how would you manage to do that?"

"Well, _Darren_, you're in the fourth sub-basement of the Battle Creek base which is located in a small office building around the edge of town. Misty is on the second floor, Duo and Trowa are on the third floor Wufei and Heero are on the third sub-basement and Quatre is on the eighth sub-basement and. Don't ask how I know that. You know I won't tell you anyway. And if you decide to be clever and move them during the hour I'm giving you, I'll still find them. And then I'll find you, Meeghan. Do you really want that to happen?"

For a scant moment, the smooth smile faltered, but Meeghan quickly covered himself. "You're bluffing! You can't possibly know all that for sure!"

"Sure I do." Walker smiled, unaware that everyone else in the complex was staring at him. "What's more, you know I do."

"Fine. You and the other wizards still have the collars on. There's no way you could possibly-"

The nondescript man fell silent as a slender metal collar hit the floor of the Ring and bounced with a resounding _ting_. 

"Remember, Meeghan. I'm giving you one hour." Walker smiled, his fangs lengthening with every word. "Hope to see you there."

__

*****


	37. Thank you for the memories

*****

Back at the Keep, the legions of people stuffed into the main dining hall were murmuring worriedly amongst themselves as, above their heads, the crystal clear dreamdrop image of the four in the Ring barely changed. Every chair and bench had been pulled up to the long tables and filled, while the tables themselves seethed with bodies trying not to be jostled off. Others had to be content with leaning on the walls, while the rest had to deal with sitting crowded together on the floor. The atmosphere was tense as everyone there tried not to imagine what could happen next. 

"How long has it been?" asked Declan. His arms were full of slumbering Bhaarliad baby, for the child's mother was off looking for her husband in the boiling mass of people. Cathy sat next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. Her face was haggard and pale, as it had been for the duration of the tournament. The months-long wait to see her surrogate brother had taken its toll on her, and the last hour had been like slow torture. Gaelin sat on the young woman's other side, a calming hand against the small of her back and his comforting arm tight around her waist. 

Relena glanced at her watch and sighed. She shifted, kicking her legs off the table she and the others sat on. "There's still another twenty minutes left to go."

Beside her, Dulcet sighed and shook his head. Balanced on his lap was the laptop computer he used to monitor Walker and Darien's physical conditions. He gave the dreamdrop image a fleeting glance before looking back down again. "God. They haven't moved since Walker gave his ultimatum." The lynx-hybrid's ears twitched nervously as he talked. Furry fingers worried the keys. Luminous green eyes widened as a new screen was reflected in them. "Oooh, shit…."

"'Oh, shit?' " Declan frowned dangerously. The baby shifted and cooed in his arms, still sleeping "What do you mean, 'oooh, shit'?"

"This is bad. This is very, very bad." 

"What is it? Is there something wrong?" Cathy sat up straight, absolute terror flooding her violet eyes. "Will Trowa be okay?"

"I can't tell you that, Cathy. I'm sorry, but I'm talking about the twins." Dulcet pointed to the screen. "Look. See this number here?"

Relena, Cathy and the bards leaned in. Across the table, Tama and Ria broke off their terse conversation and craned their necks to see better. 

"This is the measure of the hormone Darien and Walker's bodies secrete to speed up their healing process. It's called thertosine, not that it matters. See this? It's Darien's numbers. Those numbers approximately represent the normal rate of thertosine secretion into the bloodstream at any time."

"Your point being?"

"I'm getting to it, Tama. Be patient. Now, see Walker's numbers?"

Ria squinted at the screen. "They're way lower."

"Very good." Dulcet reached out and patted the red-haired Healer on the head, earning himself a black look. "Now what does this mean?"

"It means…that he's saving his energy for other things?" Relena said slowly.

"Correct. But what else does it mean?"

Gaelin sucked in a sharp breath. Unconsciously his arms tightened around Cathy's body. "It means that Walker doesn't plan on needing a reason to heal himself." He pulled Cathy closer. "He's going to eliminate all potential threats."

"Oh, my God." Declan's eyes widened as his brother's words sunk in. "Walker's not going to let anyone on the base live, is he?"

Slowly, sadly, Dulcet nodded. "Black Hood bases are almost entirely automated to save the hassle of having too many witness around, so there shouldn't be too many people to evacuate, but there's always a few who are to damn sure of Black Hood's abilities to solve each and every threat that comes their way. As sure as I live, they're going to ignore the evacuation order and if Walker finds them, he'll kill them without question."

"Was there ever a doubt?" All heads turned to regard the black-haired man as he strode towards the table, heavy booted feet making no concession for the limbs of others who held the misfortune of ending up below them, his long coat slapping at their faces. Roth faced the small group, the silver pendant at his throat winking nastily, his black currant eyes gazing hatefully at nothing. Mackie trailed meekly behind him, nervously apologising to those who were stepped on for the actions of his apparent associate. The younger man flipped a greasy lock from his shoulder and spat on what little amount of floor was still left bare. "Black Hood killed all those other innocent hostages without a second glance, so why wouldn't one of their own return the favour? An eye for and eye is all it is." He sniffed. "Let the freak kill them all. Let him drink all the blood he wants. Maybe if we're lucky, someone will end up killing _him_ and all this crazy shit'll end." Roth laughed raucously and abruptly left, all eyes staring hatefully at his back, leaving Mackie to cry a stuttered apology before trotting after him. 

A clatter caused the people surrounding them to stare as Tama wordlessly stood and left the table, bloody murder playing dangerously in each step. Ria stayed where she was, her shoulders hunched, her eyes haunted. From where she sat, Relena could all but see the Healer relive every memory of her brother; every ball game, every practical joke, every hug and kiss before bedtime, and hold them up one by one against the newly-made profile of an indifferent killer. Obviously Roth's pointless mission to arouse their anger had been carried out without a hitch.

The group was silent a while.

"We can't stop him from here, can we?" Declan asked finally, jiggling the now-fussing baby with little success of comforting her.

"I don't even think Mira and the wizards can stop him now." Her head in her hands, Ria's voice was hollow and dry. "Walker's always been a stubborn ass that way. He'll not stop until either Misty and the boys are returned or the people responsible are dead."

Relena consulted her watch. "Fifteen minutes left."

"Look!" a bodiless voice cried from the mass of people, barely reaching above the combined voices of everyone else there. "The wizards and the girl are entering the Ring!"

His head in his hands, Dulcet moaned. "Of course. They're going to help him."

Declan shook his head. "I doubt that. They're going to try to keep Walker under control. Gaelin and I are required to do that sort of thing if ever Walker got out of control with his powers. It's a simple plan, but simple plans tend to be the most effective sometimes. This is the first time it's ever been carried out, though. They're going to serve as distractions rather than helpers. They'll try to pull in what little rein they still have on him."

"We're really going to see them again, aren't we?" Cathy said wistfully. Gaelin moved her into his lap and hugged her close. "They're going to be here soon." 

"Yeah." Relena bit her lip and hugged her knees to her chest. They were really going to come back. Her friends were going to be back and everything would be okay. Relena was sure it would be. She had seen the ex-pilots endure capture after capture and watched as every time they bounced back before the bandages came off. Misty would be upset, and understandably so, but the pilots would be able to bring her around and being home again would do her a world of good. Everything was going to be okay. Relena consulted her watch again. Ten minutes left to go. Sighing, Relena let her memory wander, allowing her mind to reacquaint itself with her lost companions….

__

"What are you doing?"

Relena looked up from her ice cream at the sound of Heero's voice. They were sitting at a table at the very same ice cream parlour Walker, Amy, Misty and Duo had visited on their first day at St. Mark's school. A scoop each of Rollo and coffee ice cream sat before Relena and she stirred it with the air of a girl on a vitally important mission. Heero had –of course- ordered nothing, save for an untouched paper cup of water, contenting himself with keeping the place under constant watch. Even as he spoke, the Perfect Soldier's eyes did not remain on any one spot for more than a moment. The question was unabashed, but not asked unkindly. 

Relena put down her spoon. "What?"

Heero glanced at her, then let his eyes rove on. "I thought you would have been trained out of playing with your food at an early age, princess."

"Vice foreign minister, thank you very much," Relena sniffed jokingly. "I've done this since I was a kid. You get two flavours and mix them together so they sort of mesh. It's good almost every time."

Heero gave her a Look and went on scanning the area.

Sighing, Relena dipped up a creamy spoonful and stuffed it into Heero's mouth. The Perfect Soldier's eyes went wide and stopped on a point over his girlfriend's shoulder. For over a minute, he sat, stock still, eyes trained over her shoulder so hard, Relena was sure she could feel the heat from his burning gaze. Finally, after watching him for longer than she could bear, she turned and looked at what held Heero's gaze so raptly. The sight of the front ice cream counter greeted her, announcing over the flavour board that Tuesday was free topping day. She looked back at Heero, who gave her a slow and –could it be?- shy smile.

"Do you think mint chocolate chip would go with black cherry?"

They spent the next hour buying kiddie cups to see what would taste best. They came to no conclusions, but it soon became clear that no matter what the combination, vanilla ice cream seemed to go with everything, and that the mere notion of pistachio ice cream was a bad idea to begin with. Nervously, Relena checked her watch. Seven minutes. Around her the rest of the Keep inhabitants were getting noticeably antsy.

__

"What's all the noise for?" Relena poked her head into Duo and Heero's room, wincing as another whining squeal offended her ears. A squeal of a different sort sounded somewhere else in the house. Relena withdrew her head and watched as a terrified grey streak shot past her and rocketed down the hall. She poked her head in again. "Xiao's going ape shit out here!"

Duo smirked at her. He and Misty were sitting on his bed, a poor, defenceless acoustic guitar lying between them. Judging by Misty's pained look and Xiao's frightened yowls, which now came echoing in from the kitchen area, Duo's guitar lessons were not going well.

"You know if Belle was home right now, she'd kill you for using that kind of language." The braided boy shot her a saucy grin.

"Yeah, true," Relena conceded. "But if Wufei was home right now, he'd kill you twice as fast for turning Xiao into a cute fuzzy torpedo."

Duo shrugged, only mildly hurt by being shot down so quickly. "Misty's teaching to play the guitar."

"Trying to, anyway." Misty picked up the guitar and idly began picking out scales. "See, it's like that. Nothing to it."

The Great Shinigami took the guitar and promptly botched it on the first note. He actually snarled at the offending instrument and thrust it away like a dead fish. "Forget it. Maybe I'd have better luck with the ocarina or slide whistle or something." He suddenly perked up. "Heyyyy! D'you think I could play one of those moonshine type jugs with the three X's on the side?"

Relena giggled. "Oh, yeah. You'd be a real hit at hoe-downs."

"You think so?"

"Not really."

Sighing, the red-haired bard finagled her way into her boyfriend's lap and took up the guitar again. "Once more from the top, Duo. I'm not leaving this spot until you get this right."

Strong arms wrapped around the tiny frame while nimble fingers worked their way under her arms. Over her laughter, Duo murmured into Misty's ear so that Relena had to strain to hear him –not that she was trying to, of course.

"You act as though that's a bad thing, baby."

Five minutes.

__

"You guys haven't got any_ shame, you know that?" _

Trowa and Kari surfaced just long enough to give Relena a pair of distracted looks before getting back to the business at hand. The former Vice Foreign Minister rolled her eyes and moved to the armchair, leaving the pair to dominate the couch as much as they damn well pleased. Which they promptly did.

"You're blocking the TV!" 

Kari gave her a sweet smile. **Can I help it if we still have lipgloss to test out?**

"Oh, my lord, not that again!" Relena moaned, putting her head in her hands. "You guys wore that little joke out days ago. Can't you just let it die?"

Trowa's lips wore a slight raspberry sheen, which flashed slightly as he spoke. "You're just jealous because Heero didn't think of it first." He licked his lips thoughtfully. "I think I like this one."

****

You sure?

"No."

****

More testing, then. 

"You guys are really enjoying yourselves aren't you?" Relena huffed. She moved to take a sip from an unguarded Coke can on the coffee table, looked at the tangle of lips and limbs on the couch and thought better of it. "Do you guys plan on evolving gills or something to facilitate your little marathon?" 

"Mock me not," Trowa brought his head up again, breathing hard. This sort of prolonged activity was a lot more strenuous than it looked, apparently. "I am merely doing my part in the name of research."

****

Yes. Kari looked over her shoulder at Relena and treated her to one of her feral grins. **Research. Very…exhaustive research. It's a lot of fun. You should try it.**

"Oh, yeah?" Relena raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, go for it." Trowa shot her a decidedly roguish look. "If anything, you'll end up with a great workout."

"I'll bet," Relena said, suddenly getting up walking thoughtfully from the room in search of Heero, a small smile creeping onto her lips.

As much as she hated to admit it, they had been _so_ right. Another watch consultation was performed. Three minutes and a bit left.

__

"Wanna go higher this time, buddy?"

"Yeah!" Shinigami-kun's eyes grew wide as the blond Arab executed an exaggerated wind up and gently tossed the little reaper into the air. 

With a minuscule "fwp" Shinigami-kun's wings snapped open and he drifted smoothly onto Trowa's bed. Immediately he was up and about three inches from Quatre's nose. 

"Again! Again!" 

Quatre grinned and picked the reaper up. Then, he stopped and turned suddenly to Relena who sat next to him on his bed, watching the performance. 

"Care to try?" He offered the tiny body, which grinned winsomely at her.

Reflexively, Relena shied back. "Oh, no, I couldn't. I'd just end up throwing him too hard or bouncing him off the wall or something horrible like that."

A sceptical pale eyebrow rose at her. "May I remind you about Wufei's trusty flyswatter, Relena dear?"

"C'mon, pleeeeeease!" Shinigami-kun had now taken to wriggling like a four-year-old with an abnormally small bladder. "I can take it! Really!"

"You sure?"

Both man and reaper nodded.

"Okay, fine." Relena picked up the tiny, warm body and watched him tuck into a tiny ball. "Ready?"

Shinigami-kun mumbled something into his shirt, which Relena took to be a "yes". She wound up and threw, hurling the tiny bundle into a graceful arc that ended with him landing on the bed and bouncing a few times. Abruptly he rolled over and clutched at his stumpy little leg

"Agghh! You broke it! My ankle! You broke my ankle!" 

Relena was off the bed like a shot. "Don't move, Shi-kun!" She looked over and wondered wildly why Quatre was still just sitting there.

Shinigami-kun unfolded himself and grinned a jack'o'lantern grin at her. "Gotcha."

Relena sat heavily down again. "Don't do that to me!" 

Sighing, Quatre ruffled her hair. "I would have felt if he'd hurt anything. He's just trying to scare you. Kids love to do that sort of thing to people." He grinned and rolled his eyes. "That would be why I'm glad I never had any younger siblings."

"You're a liar," Relena teased. The children at the Keep –human and otherwise alike- adored Quatre, who regaled them with silly stories from his childhood and was always up for a wild, breathless game of tag. Also, due to his empathic talents, he was always able to find the sad kid in the group and gently steer the their activities into something that would make him or her smile, guaranteed.

"Maybe." Quatre put his knees to his chin in thought. "But I probably wouldn't have met you guys if I did."

"Huh?"

A small, sad smile crept onto Quatre's face as he wound up and tossed a squealing Shinigami-kun at Trowa's bed again. "I would have never done the things I did during the war if I knew there was someone so innocent watching them." 

Trust Quatre to be prosaic in the middle of a nice thought. Still, Relena had been forced to admit he was sadly correct. She risked another glance at her watch, afraid of what it would tell her. Less than two minutes.

__

"Hey, Wufei," Relena chirped, popping her head into the Chinese boy's room. It was the smallest in the house, save for the mudroom and a few of the smaller closets. Actually, it had once been a closet, but Gil and Belle used to take in borders a frighteningly long time ago and the closet had been converted into a passable bedroom which simply hadn't changed over the years. Luckily, Wufei's Spartan ways befitted the room perfectly, so there weren't any complaints from his end. 

As Relena poked her head in, Wufei had been shaking loose the last few drops tea from a large teapot into his cup. Casually, he laid the pot down and let his hands drape over what looked to be his philosophy homework.

"How good are you at history?"

The Chinese boy smiled. "It was my major on L5. What kind do you want? Chinese? European?"

"Roman."

He snorted. "You could have at least bothered me with a challenge."

"Yeah, yeah." Relena pulled up and chair and sat down close to Wufei. It still surprised her that he did not pull away like he would have before. Apparently he was relaxing here more than she realised. "The order of the day is the reign of Emperor Caligula."

"Crazy and paranoid. He had the earmarks of every great leader. Present company excluded." He said it with a minute smile, but paper crinkled beneath his hands as his fingers tightened at the memories of death, destruction and arrogant politics.

"Hey, hey, stop that. You'll wreck your homework." Risking instant wrath, Relena placed a comforting palm over the back of Wufei's hand and squeezed gently. As she did, his fingers shifted, showing part of a rough pencil sketch of what looked like a girl's face. "What's this?"

"Nothing," With that, the Solitary Dragon crumpled up the paper and dropped it into the trash. "Now are you going to tell me what you want or shall I just get back to my homework?"

"I had no idea you were such an artist Wufei." Indeed, though the lines were hurried and rough, the overall picture was actually quite good.

"Don't be foolish. I said it was nothing. Now either crack the books or get the hell out."

Sighing, Relena plopped her book in her lap and flipped to the appropriate pages. Wufei grabbed a pencil, which he stuck absently in his ponytail and they began to study. Eventually, though, the recently emptied pot of tea decided to come back into the picture and Wufei quickly left the room. Before his footsteps had even died down, Relena was up and uncrumpling the sketch.

The subject was a girl of no more than fourteen years, though she seemed younger because her hair was clubbed into tight pigtails. Her clothing was unadorned, almost drab and from her dress and features Relena could tell she was Chinese.

"Her name was Meiran." The sudden sound Wufei's voice forced Relena to bite back a scream. When had he come back? The Chinese boy took the sheet from her and began to finger the edges. "She was my wife."

"I know."

He shook his head. "Enough of this. Back to work."

"Have you ever spoken about her to anyone?" Relena asked, mesmerised by the almost tender way Wufei touched the picture. Why wasn't he getting angry?

"No." He spat the word, clenching his fists. Then, in a move that shocked Relena to the very core, the Solitary Dragon threw himself onto his bed and covered his face with shaking hands. "No. I haven't." 

Quietly, Relena neatly stacked the textbooks and sat next to the silently shaking boy. Only the picture remained in the open now, staring defiantly at them from behind the faint blue lines stamped into the loose-leaf. Relena's hand was warm as it came up and gripped Wufei's shoulder in a comforting way and her breath was soft as she leaned over to whisper in his ear, lest others walking the halls should hear.

"Tell me about her." 

And, haltingly at first, but not without a measure of pride, Wufei did.

"Time's up!" someone shouted, snapping Relena from her reverie. Around her, people were scrambling to see Walker Broman slowly, methodically snapping the collars from the throats of Mira and the wizards. The metallic _ting_s echoed in the now silent dining room. In the stands, barely any people remained. Relena's stomach tugged in relief and horror as she saw a witness woodenly holding a video camera to his face, capturing the event as Walker drew his finger vertically through the air, slashing an opening in the fabric of time and space and calmly walked through.

__

*****


	38. If you are lost in your way

__

Hey, guys! It looks like I'm finally back! It's been a rough semester so far, but it's all turned out for the best. Now that I have university life all figured out, I can finally get back to some serious writing. Hopefully my updates in the future will happen a lot more often. On a different note, the song in this chapter is "Lost Child" from the .hack//SIGN OST 1 (very good CD!!!) –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*

*****

__

Strong. Right. I need to be strong. Tama Broman repeated the mantra to herself as she walked the halls to the Keep medical wing, the sound of her parents' cries of grief running tragic circles through her head. _Strength will get you through. Strength will get everyone through. I can do this. I can do this. I can just walk up there and go in and smile and act like everything is perfectly okay and everyone is perfectly happy._

A small sob breached her throat as she entered the all-too familiar corridor of the med wing. 

__

No. No, I can't. 

The children were home, lying in different rooms in the wing, scared, broken and unresponsive. Despite the fact she was only two years senior to them, Tama could not help but see them now as helpless babies unable to care for themselves, thrust down into complete dependence by those who had no right to do so. They had come to the wing about a week ago, rushed in through the strange tear in space Walker had produced. It was only now that certain visitors could see the children –again that horribly fitting epithet- but the damage was so great many could not bear to see it for themselves, despite their desperate wants to see them. This left the rounds only to the goodly souls with hearts of iron.

This meant Tama, who, at the moment, felt more wretched than goodly as she stepped into the first room on her route. She had promised to look in on the children for the rest of Gil's little family as well as her own, their grief being too great to allow them to go in by themselves. She paused at the door, remembering the horror on her parents' faces as one by one the pilots were brought back and the anguish in their screaming voices as Misty was finally found.

The red-haired woman cleared her throat. As she had expected, there was no response. Heero and Wufei merely lay there in their beds, completely unmoving. They had been like this since they came home eight days ago. When he first checked them over, Dulcet had merely shaken his head and said to let them be. They were trying to hide, he said. The words still thudded like lead shot into Tama's brain. When Black Hood has you, your psyche has no choice but to spend all its time trying to hide and eventually your mind begins to think you can't be seen if it makes itself small. So it becomes smaller and smaller as it draws further and further into itself. And the abuse keeps coming, but you still hang onto that part of your mind that's now a tiny granule of its former self. You still hang onto the notion that you can keep yourself from being abused more by pretending you're not there, he said. Your mind's already screwed to shit from drugs and fear, so what's to say you can't just let yourself disappear? There was no choice but to wait until they boys were comfortable enough to be "found" again. But until then, they had to be left alone with the immovable belief that no one could see them. 

There Heero and Wufei were in their room, lying there in grim stupor among a small timberland of flowers and plants sent by well-wishers, unmoving, unblinking, trying like hell not to exist. She went to them, laying a gentle hand on Heero's sunken cheek, trying not to openly notice the tiny flinch -no more than a tautening of the skin, really- that greeted her touch. Still they lay there like the dead. The sunlight coming in from the window highlighted how ravaged they were with their haunted eyes and pallid skin. Tama ran her fingertips over the delicate indentations at Heero's temples and through his hair, which had once been thick and glossy and was now baby thin and as brittle as straw. He still did not move and neither did Wufei, even as Tama touched his face and ran her fingers through his hair in what she prayed was a comforting, mothering manner. Even as she kissed them both and left, there was no response but for tiny, desperately scared flinches that she knew their ravaged minds prayed she couldn't see.

*****

"Hey, guys."

For a scant moment Duo looked at Tama, bringing her hopes up and then dashing them as he turned his head back to stare once more out the window at nothing at all. Trowa blinked sleepily at her, but there was no other reaction. Walker and the wizards had found them on the third floor, in twin hospital beds not unlike the ones that lay in now. Here they were hooked up to IVs that pumped anti-rejection drugs into their bloodstreams. There they had been attached from every orifice, each bodily function overridden and taken over, each small physical secret broken open, violated and dissected for later use. Even now Tama could see the bandages that concealed neatly sewn vivisection incisions, unspeakably ugly in their uniformity. 

Quietly and without making any sudden movements, Tama took a seat in the chair between the two beds and crossed her legs. She had taken pains to wear pants and a long-sleeved shirt today. A skirt or t-shirt would only serve to upset Duo or Trowa. Even now Trowa had the covers tucked neatly around his legs, covering the mechanical anomaly that was housed there. Duo's covers were also over him, wrapped tightly around his torso and arms, covering his own so-called improvement, leaving his feet bare. Tama put an extra blanket over them so as to keep his feet warm, as well as to keep from upsetting Trowa. 

"Are you guys doing okay today?" Tama asked, just before the stifling silence tried to reach out and seize her by the throat.

Duo looked away. Trowa nodded slowly.

"Could you…?" the Silencer began, then stopped. His voice was tiny, tinder-dry and almost meek, as though he hadn't used it in months, which could easily have been the case. 

"Yes, Trowa?" Tama tried not to let the hope run too strongly into her voice. This was probably the first time he had talked to anyone since the children had been rescued. "What would you like?"

"Could you…loosen my blanket?" He bit his lip and looked away. "Please? The other…. It…it's…digging into my other ankle and…"

"Of course, of course. Anything you want."

She reached out and pulled the blanket gently from under Trowa's heels, revealing for a moment the skeletal frame of the half-formed mechanical limb that had replaced his right leg. There had been no reason for the amputation. No reason other than the interests of what could loosely be called science. As gently as she could, the middle Broman sister took up Trowa's remaining ankle and moved the leg over a bit before tucking the covers back around him. Throughout this, Duo watched them through glittering violet pools of cool despair.

"Better?"

"Yes." The Silencer bit his lip. "Have the scientists said anything?"

Duo's eyes narrowed to violet slits at Tama's hesitation. "I…."

What could she tell them? That the prosthetics were too deeply rooted to be amputated without even more massive tissue loss? That there was no way that these freakish substitutes for nature could be modified or studied or even given proper coverings without completely disabling themselves? Whatever bastards they were, Tama had to admit Black Hood knew how to protect their prototypes. 

"I haven't heard anything." The lie stabbed her, making the fake smile pasted to her face jump slightly. She tried a little laugh. "I suppose everything'll be all right." 

Trowa gave her a careful little smile, rusty with disuse, as Duo closed his eyes and ignored her. "Yeah. Could be."

Tama grinned back at him. 

__

I am the worst human being in the world. 

*****

The room was so dark it took a moment for Tama's eyes to adjust. After a moment, the darkness negotiated itself into ghostly shapes. Here a bed, there a table. The only thing Tama could not see was the room's only occupant. Not that it would be hard to find him. 

__

"If you are lost in your way …"

"Quatre?" Tama knew this song. Zach sang it around the house sometimes, earning groans of mock agony from Misty before she would stop him and take over, her voice rising over the invisible crescendo of traditional English instruments. Tama's heart skipped over itself in grief before settling back into its now-usual place of numb sorrow. Her grandfather hadn't sung it since Misty had been taken, and in light of what had happened to his beloved granddaughter, there was little chance of him ever singing it again. The red-haired warrior's head snapped up as there came a shuffling sound, like that of a small animal trying to retreat further into a beloved corner. Slowly she advanced, stalking cautiously, talking softly all the time. "I really like your song, Quatre. You know, Granddad sings it sometimes."

If there was any recognition there, Quatre did not acknowledge it. Unconcerned, the singing continued on. _"Deep in an awesome story. Don't be in doubt and stray …"_

Quatre had been found shivering and alone, connected by small wires going directly from his brain to a monstrous device Mira had referred to as the "Buzz Box". From this horrifying contraption, Quatre had been force-fed the emotions of every being in the whole compound. The result had been mental overload as every emotion from libido to rage to joy tore into his psyche and jostled out the original material. Physically the empath was unscathed, save for the slender yellow wires which still protruded from the base of his skull, blending into what was left of the stubble of his sunny hair. But mentally he was a shattered child who did little more than gently rock and sing to himself. 

"Do you want something to eat, Quatre?" He hadn't consumed anything solid since he had been rescued, save for water when his voice gave out. Reaching out on impulse to touch his face, Tama felt the supple plastic of a feeding tube threaded into a delicate nostril. "Maybe something to drink?"

The Gentle Noble rocked in tune to the music playing within, ignoring the worried young woman before him. "_Cling to your lonesome folly. Now you're too close to the pain…"_

Biting her lip, Tama manoeuvred herself and the oblivious boy until he was in her lap, his head against her breast. Despite wanting to be fair, she always knew that this dainty little boy with the achingly blue eyes was her favourite of the lot. 

"_Let all the rain go further. Come back and kiss me in vain…"_

Tama sang along as her eyes filled with helpless tears. Oblivious, Quatre began to play curiously with her fingers. _"Mother, oh do not bother."_

*****

"Keep it shut."

"Of course." Tama turned and quietly closed the offending door behind her before siting down on the bedside. Huddled under the covers with only her head visible was the youngest Broman sister. For once, Tama had no idea how to begin. Misty looked periodically at the door as though she expected someone to burst through it and commit some unspeakable act of violence. Considering what she had been through, Tama could not fault her. Misty had been found on a floor filled with bedrooms –all deserted now. Some only held beds, others shackles, others instruments of lust-driven torture. The room Walker had led the wizards to had held Misty. As a fatal blow to the very pride of Alaryan's Keep, one of its high ladies had been forced to become a Wife. Even now, days after her rescue, the Keep still reeled with the shock of knowing that such an innocent girl had been forced to work as a whore. 

"You got a haircut."

Blinking at this sudden observation, Tama put her hand to her head, ruffling the short auburn tresses that were still left. "Yeah. I think they cut it too short." She laughed nervously. "It looks like the haircut Walker had when he was twelve."

Misty nodded and looked at her hands, allowing the conversation to fall into silence. 

Valiantly, Tama tried to restart it. "Are you healing well?"

"No." 

Ignoring Tama's protests, Misty let the covers drop, opened her pyjama top and pulled off the bandages wreathing her chest. The brand burned into the delicate skin between her breasts made Tama shudder in horror. It was shaped like a rose, telling all who used her that she was taken in before the age of twenty and that she had been a virgin at the time. An emotionless Kari had told Tama this. The brand had been scoured with wire brushes and sprayed with alcohol to force it to scar. Misty would probably bear it for the rest of her life. The youngest Broman sister looked at Tama with empty eyes. "It's getting infected again." Indeed, the skin around the burn was puffy and sore-looking. Tama resisted the urge to pull her baby sister into her arms and rock her, knowing that the close contact of another body was exactly what she did not want. 

"Mom and Dad miss you. So do Ria and Granddad and the boys. They miss you so much." Her mind skipped to the sounds of anguished sobbing coming from her parents' room while she was supposed to be asleep. "They still do."

Misty laughed, a short, choking bark without any real feeling to it. "They don't care."

Tama blinked at the shock the icy words gave her. "What?"

"They won't see me. Shit, who would?" The tiny bard began to wrap herself in the bandages again. "I'm a bloody whore now. Who would waste time with that?" 

"Of course they love you!" Tama snapped, her already weakened humour quickly fraying. "It's just that-" 

Misty shot her a dead-eyed look. "Allow me to hazard a guess. They all love me so much they can't bear to look at me." She extended an emaciated arm to the side and looked at it, squinting at the elbow joint and how it jutted against her ashen skin. "Can't say I blame them. I've lost fifty pounds since I was taken. Black Hood likes their ladies willowy and slender. And they're happy to take their prostitutes half-dead." 

"Misty, don't talk like that," begged Tama. "You're safe now."

This time the angry façade slipped a fraction as the tiny girl bit her lip. "Yeah. But for how long?"

*****

__

Wow. I'm evil. @_@

Ja ne, minna san!

–LPD *//.^* 


End file.
